


Chandelier

by IsThisNameTaken



Category: Death Parade (Anime)
Genre: Emotions, Oculus is the bad guy, Reincarnation, Uprising, philosophical, swearing because of Ginti, tags will be updated as necessary, violence not just because of Ginti
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsThisNameTaken/pseuds/IsThisNameTaken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Decim only wanted to see her again. He missed his friend. The world of arbitration is undergoing a metamorphosis, one which surely would mean the end for an Arbiter with human emotions. <br/>Unless, he found a loophole in the system.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hello, and welcome to my new work of fiction. I hope it will be to your liking - please keep in mind that I am writing this on a whim, it does not yet have a solid plot. Nevertheless, please enjoy the first instalment of  **Chandelier**. - IsThisNameTaken

 

* * *

 

**Prologue**

 

Quindecim seemed more empty without her.

The atmosphere was...lacking.

Decim had recently been criticised for not being as welcoming towards his guests as he usually was. But there had been a change in his existence that he simply could not compute.

Decim _felt_. Not only that, he felt lonely.

 

Even the company of other guests or Arbiters could not quell his longing for companionship.

 

Decim shouldn’t have been able to retain any memories of Chiyuki after she had been reincarnated, but due to his newfound emotions, he was capable of remembering the majority of the guests he judged, as well as recalling memories of her. The doll of her still sat in the corner of the bar. Decim always made sure that it never collected dust.

He felt his face relax from its typically rigid structure. A small smile creased his mouth.

Chiyuki’s smile haunted him. He missed her.

 

Pale blue eyes enforced with cog-like pupils glanced towards the telephone near the bar. Perhaps he could-

“Decim.” Nona’s voice resonated down the hall as she strode toward him. “Have you finished your duties for today?”

 

He gave a firm nod. “Yes, Ma’am. Can I help you?” She hesitated, arms loosely folded. “...We need to talk.”

 

“What is it?” A new emotion blossomed within Decim. It swirled and spiralled - he had witnessed it in his guests many times. Curiosity. Nona stepped closer. “Oculus, um...he knows that you...that you are different from other Arbiters. As in, your emotions.” She sighed. “He doesn’t like it, Decim.” 

Decim’s expression remained neutral. “Then what is to be done?” A pause. “I am to reverse the process. You will no longer have these conflicting emotions.”

Now, something different was felt by the white-haired Arbiter. This emotion writhed and snarled and boiled in his chest. Anger.

“No.”

Nona was taken aback. “W-what?”

Decim averted his eyes. “I apologise, that was rude of me. However I do not wish to reverse the process.”

“Decim, I must do it-”

 

“Please,” Thin strands of pale hair hid his glistening eyes from Nona. “Please let me be.” Nona wanted to. She really did. But her job and her existence were on the line. She had pushed her luck enough - the last thing she wanted was for a fellow Arbiter to suffer because of her mistakes.

But Decim didn’t see it as a mistake. He liked this evolution, despite the pain and sadness it had brought. During Chiyuki’s judgement she had cried in his arms and he in hers; he remembered his temporary transition to humanity, and the suffering had been unbearable.

That was what had made it beautiful. That was what had made the experience fulfilling.

 

“I’m sorry, Decim,” Nona apologised once more, “the reversal will begin tomorrow. Good night.”

 

He was compelled to reply politely, “Very well. Good night, Miss Nona.” After all, it wasn’t her fault entirely. Decim knew he had been the subject of Nona’s experiment, but due to its eye-opening revelations he held no resentment for her.

Once Nona left, he made himself a drink.

A Memento Mori.

If he was going to lose everything he’d gained by tomorrow, he may as well mourn his mimicry of life. 

Yes. After tomorrow he would be just another Arbiter again. Judging people without qualms or interferences.

“ _How can you call this judgement? This isn’t judgement_!” Chiyuki’s angered voice rang in his ears. How _was_ this judgement? He found himself wondering as he sipped at the fragile glass. All he did was observe and conclude based on a short time interval spent with a guest, and their scattered memories. He judged people based upon morals and rules created by humans. It was like using someone else’s set of instructions to build a machine of whose purpose he had no clue. Was that not hypocritical of Arbiters?

What gave lifeless, emotionless beings a right to judge the dearly departed?

He needed to find out more. Arbiters were not able to get drunk but he felt the alcohol numbing his thoughts.

Decim wanted to keep his emotions.

He wanted to live.

And he wanted to see Chiyuki, his only friend, again. Even if she no longer knew him.

 

It had been at least twenty years since he had last seen her.

 

Setting the glass down, Decim looked down the corridor at the twin elevators. Anxiety jumped about his body as he walked across the immaculate carpet. The little blue spotlights twinkled.

 

This could be a very stupid decision.

 

Perspiration beaded on Decim’s forehead as he pressed a button to open an elevator. He folded his hand towel neatly and set it on the floor. The doors opened.

Behind him, another elevator opened a distance away.

“Hey, Decim! I - huh? Where are you?” Clavis moved around the corner, his mouth falling open when he saw Decim. “What are you doing?”

“Good evening, Clavis. I hope you are well,” Decim replied without facing him.

He stepped into the elevator, the white mask above it signalling his choice.

Clavis rushed after him, hand reaching for the doors. “Decim, no! You could be erased!” Decim turned around, hands by his sides. He offered Clavis a gentle smile as the doors closed.

“Arbiters aren’t meant to do this!” Yelled the green-haired Arbiter.

“My regards to Miss Nona. Farewell, Clavis.”

  
The doors closed.

* * *

 

 


	2. Chapter 1

   **Chapter 1**

 

Akise Nakamori awoke.

Yawning, he sat up and stretched. Looking around his bland room, he had a feeling of misrecognition. He had been living here for three years, he was twenty-six years old and yet...he wasn’t.

Akise’s heart began to race. His head was filled with memories that could not be anybody else’s and at the same time were most definitely not his.

For example, a memory of going shopping yesterday. The writing in shop stores told him he was Japanese, but - who was he? What was his name, at least? Standing and searching around his room, he found his wallet on a shelf; he pulled out the cards inside.

 

Akise Nakamori. He frowned. That didn’t seem right. And he could not have been shopping yesterday because he was -

 

Akise rushed out of his room, across his small apartment to the bathroom, flicking on the light, facing the mirror -

 

He gasped. His wavy, layered hair was now jet black.

 

He had the same pale skin, the same square jaw, same straight nose and the same blue eyes. Straightening, he pulled his T shirt off. He was a couple of inches shorter, but his body was still lean.

Was it his body?

_Akise_ _Nakamori_. That name was not his.

 

Leaning on the sink, Akise stared into his own - undoubtedly his own - eyes, hoping to clear this uncertain fog surrounding his identity.

    The cogs in his mind clicked into place.

He was not Akise. He was Decim.                                                         

 

* * *

 

 

He was going to be late! Grabbing his briefcase, he stuffed papers and his lunch inside, making sure that his suit was neat before hurrying out of the door.

The most annoying thing was that Decim - Akise - had no idea what kind of work he did for a living; his memories were still muddled. But the panic he felt this morning when he glanced at the clock gave him reason enough to stick to Akise’s routine.

He was relying purely on Akise’s procedural memories so that he could find out what was going on.

It was a Monday, oh dear why must it be a Monday! Akise thought as he ran to catch the bus.

“Wait! Mr Oshimura!”

He did not even know the bus driver, yet another sense of recognition swelled as Mr Oshimura opened the doors for him. Also, he noted, his voice sounded just as it always had.

“Mr Nakamori, you’re normally much earlier,” He commented as Akise showed him his bus pass, “are you alright?” That explained the early panic. “Yes, I am well. Thank you,” Akise took a seat and tried to figure out where his workplace might be.

“Excuse me,” He addressed a passenger, “can you please tell me where in Japan this is?” The passenger looked confused but replied nonetheless. “Sapporo, Hokkaido Prefecture,” He said.

“Thank you very much for indulging me.”

 

Next, he considered his appearance. Smart suit, shiny shoes - briefcase. He opened it and scrutinised the papers within. They were student submissions on the history of Russia, if the writing styles told Akise anything.

Inference: history teacher.

The fact that the bus had stopped outside Hokkaido Academy had played no role in his conclusion. Taking a deep breath, Akise prepared himself for what seemed like his first day at work.

                                                                

* * *

 

 

“Ah! Mr Nakamori, you’re here.” A woman with a short bob haircut approached him as he entered the school lobby. She also wore a suit.

Akise bowed low. “My apologies for arriving behind schedule, Mrs Murakami. Please forgive me.”

 

Mrs Murakami seemed shocked at such a display of apology. “It’s quite alright,” She assured him, lightly touching his arm as indication to follow her. “Your class is being registered by a teaching assistant as we speak.”

He was ten minutes late. The revulsion that spread through him was consistent with his normal character - he detested lack of punctuality, it set an entire plan back unnecessarily. “I really am terribly sorry, it will not happen again,” Akise repeated, noting how the headmistress of the academy narrowed her eyes as they walked. “Are you alright, Mr Nakamori? You seem a little...off.”

“I do?”

“Yes. Are you coming down with something?”

Akise blinked. “I do not believe so. But perhaps I...I should look after my health.” He was completely knew to such an aspect of existence; the prospect of visiting the doctor and receiving treatment seemed to him totally alien.

 

“Here we are. I must go, I have an appointment to keep,” With that, Mrs Murakami left him to fend for himself.

 

Sliding open the door of classroom 2C, Akise overheard the register being taken.

“ _Jirou Hatsuyama…..Nanami Rikku…._.” Followed by corresponding responses from the students present.

 

Akise didn’t pay attention to the names particularly.

 

He knew that voice.

 

_Impossible_.

 

A woman - presumably the assistant - was stood behind his desk. She was relatively tall, rather thin, her skin of a light pigment. Her short hair was dark brown and straight, save for a single silver streak; her dark eyes, accentuated with makeup, locked with Akise’s own as she turned to him, a bright smile illuminating her features. “Ah, good morning Mr Nakamori! I was just finishing up.”

The class, as expected, rose, bowed and collectively greeted their homeroom teacher before seating themselves again.

Akise had to remind himself that he had been spoken to, and so was obliged to reply. “Yes,” He blurted, “...thank you, Miss…” His mixed memories hid her name from him, “...Miss…”

“Kozuma,” She discreetly supplied. Now, his mind retrieved the rest of her name.

 

“Miss Chiaki Kozuma.” _It couldn’t be_. But he recognised her, and not just because she was among his new set of memories.

 

As she passed him, he fought the urge to cry. That emotion, the first one he had ever felt, threatened to take hold of him. _Sorrow_.

 

It was definitely her. 

Chiyuki.

                                                                       

* * *

 

 

Teaching, as Akise was reminded, was a challenging profession. He had witnessed countless memories of teachers, he was sure, yet that was during a time when he was merely an Arbiter, whose memories were discarded once they became useless in judgement. Therefore, he could not even rely on the memories of others to help him in this job.

Well, there was the unintentional help provided by Akise, whoever he was.

“Good morning, class 2C.”

One class member tilted her head. “Are you feeling well, Mr Nakamori?”

Akise blinked. “What compels you to ask, Miss Ayumi?”

Ayumi blushed. “I - It’s just that you look pale, sir. And your voice sounds different.” Strolling over to his desk, Akise noted a fuzzy, unstable feeling begin to emerge inside his head. He sat down. “That is very thoughtful, but I will be fine.” The bell rang. “Please get out the necessary textbooks and be off to your respective subjects.”

He surveyed the room as some students shuffled off, particularly Hidori, the short girl who was class representative. Other students stayed behind and others poured in for his history class.

 

Stealing a glance at the semester curriculum for history, Akise confirmed that they were studying Russia pre-1920s. To work, then.                                                                  

* * *

 

 

By mid-morning, Akise was exhausted. His throat ached from talking; his hand hurt from writing and typing, and a headache blossomed subsequently to his brain having to comprehend all this new information which, until today, had never been of use or relevance to him.

He missed Quindecim.

He wanted to work as a bartender again. That was a fairly simple, relaxed job. His only challenge had been to provide torturous situations in which to judge people’s souls, but at that time he was not capable of the feeling ‘exhaustion’ anyway.

Akise sighed. Would the Academy be angered if he quit his job for bartending?

 

Admittedly, despite the helpful memories, he decided that he not only preferred but excelled considerably in making drinks than marking papers.

 

During the morning break, Akise decided to explore the school, a cup of coffee in his his hand. He had seated himself on a bench to admire the cherry blossoms in the heat of summer. He suddenly began to regret wearing a suit as temperatures soared.

Weaving her way through the waves of students, Chiaki Kozuma once again made an appearance. Akise’s skin felt prickly with nerves as she strode over and sat next to him, also cradling a mug of what Akise considered to be black tar after tasting his own sample.

He came to the conclusion that coffee was not his cup of tea.

“...Thank you, again, Miss Kozuma.”

 

She nodded as if she expected him to say that. “Don’t worry about it; I’m only an assistant, remember, so I actually enjoy getting to take over for teachers every now and then.” Sipping from his cup, Akise wondered if she...maybe she….No. That would be impossible.

How can one remember someone they have never met before?  _Unless..._

The uneasy feeling from that morning returned with a vengeance; it seemed to spread via Akise’s bloodstream all around his body. His grip on the cup loosened. His breathing became shallow. His shirt collar felt like it was strangling him.

Akise stood abruptly, swaying on weakened legs; when he looked down, his sight blurred. Chiaki jumped to her feet, putting a cautious hand before his torso. “Akise! What’s the matter?”

 

Akise squinted. “I -” Before he understood what had happened, his vision glided sideways and a thick, dangerous thud was heard as his head collided with the ground.

 

“ _Akise_...!”

 

* * *

A/N: any characters mentioned which are not from Death Parade are something akin to OCs: they have no resemblance to other characters from other animes, and if they somehow do seem that way it was not my intention. 

                                                               

 


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 

All was quiet in Quindecim.

It had been shut down temporarily because there were no Arbiters to take over its management at this time.

The only lights were the ghostly blue strobelights which surrounded the jellyfish tank, and those floor bulbs along the walkway.

 

Only a couple of hours ago, Clavis had rushed up to the top floor of the tower where Nona and Oculus had stood over their pool table; he had shouted about urgent news. When Oculus had been told of Decim’s actions, his first reaction had been to laugh. His second reaction had been to envelop Nona with his orchid beard, forcibly rooting through her memories. “ _This is another experiment of yours, isn’t it_?”

Nona had twisted and removed the flower from her, angrily retorting, “ _No! It isn’t_.” She had seemed distant, then. “ _This....this was Decim’s independent decision_.”

The tall old man had narrowed his eyes and folded his arms. “ _Those who do not possess the ability to live most certainly do not have the opportunity to be reincarnated_ ,” He had growled, “ _and from what could a doll be reincarnated, if it never owned a soul? If it was never human? Decim has sealed his fate: he will end up in the void._ ”

Nona had sighed, her gaze sorrowful as they fell upon the elderly heir to God. “ _Such a shame. He made an interesting Arbiter to have in my employ_.”

 

But now, hours later, Nona sat in Ginti’s bar along with Ginti himself and Clavis, all of whom were taking swigs of their respective poisons.

“So he just...threw himself in the elevator?” Ginti began.

Shaking his head slightly, Clavis replied, “No. He seemed...resigned, when he stepped in. As if he was content with his decision.” He put his glass down. “And...he smiled at me.”

Both Nona and Ginti frowned.

“Decim…” Ginti began.

“...Smiled?” Finished Nona, her large earrings reflecting the dim light.

Clavis nodded. “I hadn’t known he could do that, I’ve never seen him do it before.”

“D’you think it had something to do with that dark-haired woman’s judgement years ago?” Ginti offered, wiping down the countertop. “He’s been hooked on that since forever.”

“It is possible,” Nona conceded, “but why would Decim send himself to the hangman’s noose if he missed her that much?” Her eyes widened. “Unless -”

“Unless he thought he could meet her again,” Ginti interrupted, his stern expression softening. “That idiot.”

Nona remembered her words to Decim on that day, her obligation to tell him that his most treasured memories and emotions would have to be terminated if he was to remain at Quindecim. _That must have spurred his decision_.

 

Clavis bit his lip. “Oculus said reincarnation for an Arbiter would be impossible; it would break the laws of this place.”

 

“It stands to reason that non-living beings cannot be rebirthed,” Stated Nona. “And Arbiters cannot have an experience of life for it would bring them too close to being human,” She pursed her lips, “but we haven’t detected any extra souls entering the void; that is, no more than those judged to go there.”

“We don’t have souls.” Said Ginti.

“So where is he?” Asked Clavis.

 

_I would rather not know,_ thought Nona as she drained her drink. “He’s not in the void, that’s for sure. We must not tell old flowerhead of this until it is absolutely necessary.” _Decim may have just started the revolution we have been waiting for._

                                                                       

* * *

 

 

Pale eyelids fluttered open to reveal paler eyes. The scents that overwhelmed Akise consisted of a strong antiseptic odour and that of his own sweat.

Akise noted his attire was now a simple open-back medical gown; the covers of his bed were drawn up to his chin and someone was -

Someone was sitting by his bed. Eyes widening, Akise brushed his dark hair back to clear his vision further. He would have to get used to having dark hair, he thought quickly as the other person noticed he had awoken.

He could not tell who it was because they were wrapped in a hospital blanket, but as they lifted their head and blurted, “Thank goodness, you’re alright!” Akise recalled that it was Chiy - Chiaki.

“Miss Kozuma?” She had placed one of her hands over his covered arm, her shining violet eyes adding to the intensity of her happiness.

“S-sorry!” She let go. “I do get a little carried away, sometimes. Uh…” She scratched the back of her neck in embarrassment.

Akise sat himself up straighter. “How long have I rested here? What happened?”

“You’ve been here for a day. The doctors aren’t sure, but...they think you passed out from heat exhaustion. You hit your head pretty hard - don’t worry though, no internal bleeding. Just a bruise.” Chiaki chuckled lightly and Akise felt compelled to smile. She even behaved similarly to Chiyuki. “That is fortunate. I suppose I have been feeling...odd.”

“There we go, admitting it is the first step to recovery,” She chimed, “Mrs Murakami agreed for you to take some time off work and rest. After all, she said, you’ve been working so hard for the students lately.”

“How kind of her, I shall give her my gratitude.”

“They noticed, you know,” Chiaki told him, her voice quieting, “your students. Today, they saw that something wasn’t right. They were telling me all day about it, about how different you seemed. So I thought I would come visit you.”

Memories of Akise Nakamori’s class filled his head: calm yet cooperative lessons, occasional bouts of tension before exams, fun day trips and getting to know his students; all the images and sounds were laughs or Akise’s voice mentoring the pupils. It appeared that he got on well with his class, and that the simple affection was reciprocated.

 

Akise frowned. Still...they weren’t _his_ memories. But they had to be. Then he realised: this was the perfect opportunity to play the amnesiac and find out more about Akise Nakamori.

Looking to Chiaki, he tried to appear concerned. “I’m afraid I do not recall my class.”

“What? Not a single student?” Akise shook his head in reply.

Worried, Chiaki fetched some nurses and a doctor. The doctor checked Akise’s pupillary reflex and sound reflex. “Not a concussion,” She concluded. “Can you remember your name?”

“Akise Nakamori.”

 

“The date?”

 

“Uh…” He genuinely had not checked the date today or yesterday, but the month he knew. “Sometime in early June.”

 

“I see. And your address?” Akise struggled to recall the information about his apartment’s exact location, but managed to give details nonetheless.

“Do you remember your age and profession, Mr Nakamori?”

“Twenty-six; history teacher at...at…” He had never lied like this before! Much less about having amnesia. Did one simply omit certain aspects of their lives when asked about it?

“But you remembered me,” Chiaki commented.

 

Oh dear. Evidently first-time liars failed to consider everything. “Yes I did. But my memory beyond yourself is lacking,” Akise gulped. “I cannot even remember the name of the Academy at which I work.”

“But you remember it’s an Academy?” Chiaki questioned, eyebrow raised.

 

“I’m confused,” Akise admitted. Anybody could see that that was no lie.

 

“Alright, we don’t want to crowd him,” Said the doctor as the nurses were dismissed. “Sir, you’ll be allowed to rest here for a while longer, however I deem you healthy enough to go home and continue your respite. Please ring the hospital if any more symptoms arise or if your memory does not improve.”

“Yes. Thank you, Doctor.” With that, he was left in the company of Chiaki once more. “Akise,” She began, “what’s going on?” Sensing that his doomed charade was up, Akise averted his gaze from her’s. “I am terribly sorry, I am simply feeling very unwell at the moment. I believe the time off work is much needed.”

 

Minutes of silence went by. It was not until Akise looked up,that he found Chiaki studying him discreetly. “May I ask why you study me so?”

Chiaki blinked, somewhat upset. “Sorry, I - look, Akise, you’ve been acting really strange today, and if I’m being honest it’s kind of creeping me out. Your speech is unusually formal, your posture is rigid, and I swear that your eyes look different.” Sighing, she stood up and pulled her coat around her body. “We’ve known each other for years; I can tell when something’s bothering you.”

This was new information to him. “H-how long have we known each other?” He asked, knowing that the question would hurt her but needing to understand anyway.

“What?”

 

“How...long have we known each other?” He repeated slowly, watching as Chiaki’s eyes narrowed.

 

“You really _can’t_  remember stuff?” Sitting on the edge of his bed, the dark-haired woman tilted her head at him. “We’ve known each other since high school - we went to the same University!” She finally answered, frustrated. “Only recently we’ve actually gotten to know each other properly, but - seriously, did I mean so little to you back then?”

Akise knew he had offended her, but had no solutions to his predicament. “If it is any consolation, I cannot remember anyone with whom I attended high school or University. Please do not be offended. I am sure that the memories will return shortly,” At her curious expression, Akise elaborated, “seeing as I hit my head.”

Chiaki rubbed her forehead, clearly exhausted.

 

“I apologise for worrying you. You must be quite tired.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“I should be able to make my own way home -”

 

“Like I’m going to let someone with amnesia wander around the streets at this time of day,” Chiaki stated. “It’s already 6pm, I’ll help you get home. For my good conscience, if anything.”

Akise released a shallow breath from between his dry lips. “...Very well.”

                                                                  

* * *

 

 

 

The clack of planets against each other rang out and echoed in the space that was the 100th floor of the Arbitration Tower - otherwise referred to as Oculus’s billiards room.

Nona leaned over the table, carefully arranging her hands before pushing the cue to knock Saturn and Neptune into different pockets.

“Damn,” She heard the old man curse behind her. He had seemed different lately, more defensive, but one thing certainly hadn’t changed. He was still rubbish at this game.

 

“I want to change my request I made all those years ago, Nona,” Oculus muttered, taking his turn. The cue hit the sun, but the sun only bumped the planets around it. “Go easy on me.”

“Sorry,” Nona began, a smirk on her porcelain features, “you only get one request. Besides, I’m not used to restraining my abilities.”

 

Dark, snake-like eyes peered at her over half-moon spectacles. “I am aware of that. How many Arbiters in how many different departments have you been bribing?”

The question took Nona off guard. “...What -”

“It’s not just you I’ve had my eye on, girl,” The older said as he stood to his full, crooked height. “I have been observing Quin and Castra, seeing as they’ve given this tower trouble before. There’ve been several reports and complaints of muddled, semi-concentrated memories arriving from Quin’s area, and Castra I know for a fact had been sending most of the tricky cases to your boy Decim before he proceeded to bite the big one.”

“He can’t die if he’s not alive,” Nona countered, “and I did what I had to do to ensure my experiment ran smoothly.”

“But it didn’t, did it? You ruined that poor boy. Gave him human emotions. Altered his existence to encompass suffering he was not prepared to deal with. I just want to know exactly what you’ve been doing, so that I may undo it.”

Guilt showed on her face, but she continued to deter him.“Undo it? I’ve already pointed out that we need a change around here, Oculus. I did not enjoy Decim’s suffering, but you _saw_ how it affected his judgement: it made the judgement meaningful.”

Oculus sneered. “Why do judgements have to mean anything? That’s the beauty of it: they simply _are_. They have no bias and they have no semantics. Once everything is back to normal you will understand that suffering only decreases the validity of a ruling.”

“Of course judgements have meaning! In this case, their meaning is to decide whether a human’s soul goes for reincarnation or to the void. It is an incredibly important decision - one can argue it is _the_ most important decision one can make,” Nona set the cue down, ready to storm off, ignoring the old man’s look of contempt, “and one other thing: as long as judgements are made by sentient beings, they will always be biased in some way. The change I’m hoping for will at least put this bias to good use in a justice system.”

She started to march toward the elevator, but a cold, bony hand gripped her forearm. “Wait.”

 

“I’m not going to discuss this further with you.”

 

Oculus sighed. “Then discuss something else. Concerning Decim.”

Pulling away, Nona backed toward the edge of the platform, which was surrounded by flowers and vines. “I don’t know where he is. As I’ve said, no anomalous souls have been detected around here.”

Oculus chuckled. “Why are you searching for a soul? Arbiters have no such thing of their own.”

Nona pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes, but consider it. After Chiyuki’s judgement, Decim had human emotions. He acted as a human would. Would that not make him human? Would that not grant him a soul?”

 

“Souls aren’t gifts; you don’t just acquire one, you’re born with one.”

 

“Then maybe he was _born_!” Nona yelled, making him flinch. “Maybe, in that moment, Decim was born. Therefore, it equates to actually being birthed with a soul.”

 

Evidently, Oculus had not thought about this, as his grip on his cue loosened, it clattered to the floor, and he gulped. “...He would still be a dummy.”

“Only physically,” The pale-haired woman stepped closer. “If this is accurate, then Decim has been judging with a human soul for over twenty years already.”

“...No…” Oculus gripped his temples, grinding his teeth.

Nona grinned. “That would mean…”

“No.”

“...that your system of arbitration is already corrupt, old man!” Oculus lunged, pushing Nona against the cobbled wall; she hissed as her head hit the stone. Regardless, her finger found and pressed the button to call the elevator up.

“Mark my words, Nona, I will have you decommissioned and dismantled for the dummy you are!” He spat, his obsidian eyes boring into hers. Still, she did not relent. “The seed has been sown. If you end my existence, others will take my place,” Nona panted, “and we will keep pushing for this change. Oculus, please, Arbiters need to either work with or own human emotions for their judgements to be sincere - otherwise we’re just impassive observers!”

 

“Impassive observers are ideal,” He stated, fingers pressing into her collarbone. “They cannot be unstable or bribed, and they bear no human traits. You said yourself, Nona, humans can’t judge humans.”

“And under what logic can dummies judge humans? I’ve been working for over one hundred years, and you know what the obstacle about being a simple observer is?” At his silence, she amended, “That we do not _understand_ what we are judging.”

 

Oculus frowned. “Why would Arbiters not understand -”

 

“Because we go by human laws! ‘Ok, this one’s killed someone, therefore he deserves the void’; ‘ok, this one’s lived a full life helping others, therefore he deserves reincarnation’ but we never understand our own judgements. We don’t get why killing someone is a bad thing because we can’t feel grief, we have never lost loved ones because we cannot love, so we go based on what humans feel. We don’t even know exactly what counts as ‘doing good’ so we make _subjective_ deductions.” Glaring at Oculus, Nona’s expression was one of determination. “Back to Decim, as I’ve said, I don’t know where he is. But he’s not -”

 

The ring which announced the arrival of the elevator interrupted Nona’s speech. Before Oculus could dismiss the messenger, Clavis appeared, hunched over, wheezing and flustered.

 

“Oc….Oculus, sir, I...I found -”

 

“Spit it out, Clavis.”

 

Clavis leaned against the doorframe. In his arms, he cradled parts of a mannequin, all connected through strings and wires. “I...I realised that no one had checked the elevator Decim left in,” He began, “so I called it down and opened the doors. And, this was there.”

Oculus released Nona. She hurried over to the bleached collection of hollow limbs, examining it. On a thigh piece, something was inscribed: **MDL 010**. *

“How strange,” Commented Oculus.

“Decim…” She murmured. What had become of him?

 

“This makes no sense,” Clavis continued. “We have his dummy, but no sign of him.”

All that was left of the rookie Arbiter was indeed, a husk.

Nona paused. _A...husk?_

 

Just as Clavis turned to leave, Nona turned to face the heir to God. “I have a theory as to where Decim is,” She said, “but I doubt you will like it.”

* * *

* I chose the number 10 for his mannequin because Decim sounds close to  _decem_ , the Latin word for 'ten'. Ergo _Quindecem_ would be 'fifteen', for the 15th Floor. 

 

 


	4. Chapter 3

They took the bus back to Akise’s apartment complex. As Akise fished his keys from his pocket, Chiaki braced him with a reassuring arm around his waist.

 Once inside, he fell somewhat ungracefully onto his couch, grateful for the reprise from movement but dizzied by the way the room suddenly spun to accommodate his change in viewpoint.

Chiaki headed straight into the kitchen; Akise registered the sound of his kettle being switched on. “You do not need to stay, but I thank you for your help,” He called.

“You’re welcome. Though that comment did resemble a backhanded attempt to throw me out,” She replied, chuckling.

 

Akise’s eyes widened. “N-no, please do not be offended -”

“Akise, I was joking!”

 

“...Oh.” He attempted a laugh, but it sounded incredibly forced and almost sarcastic. Not that Decim had ever grasped the concept of sarcasm. 

Much to Akise’s relief, Chiaki decided to ignore the laugh. “Tea or coffee?” He would have asked for water, but reasoned that it would be rude not to accept a hot beverage as she had already boiled the kettle.

 

But he was _not_ drinking coffee ever again. “Tea, please.”

 

Facing him, Chiaki’s brows drew together. “You really must be feeling ill,” She commented, “you almost never drink tea.”

“I...I suppose my taste has changed slightly.” Considering that at Quindecim most of what he drank was alcoholic, he assumed that tea could not possibly be worse than coffee.

“Sugar? Milk?” Akise had no idea how to respond, so he shrugged in the hope that conveying a nonchalance towards preference would be sufficient.

 

“You’re...very different today.” Chiaki came over and sat near him, setting two mugs on the small coffee table beside them.

Picking up his mug, Akise nodded once. “I do recall you saying that before.” He met her eyes again. Her diagonally-cut fringe made the irises seem a darker colour. She looked angry.

“Miss Kozuma, what is -”

“Just speak normally!” She blurted, making Akise flinch and spill some hot tea on his leg. Pain was not so much an emotion but a neurological response in this context, Akise concluded, as he gripped the burned area on reflex, lips pulled back in a grimace.

This pain was indeed very different from sorrow. More physical. He still did not like it.

 

“Oh, I - I’m sorry, I…” Forgetting her apology, Chiaki rushed to fetch a towel. Akise noted that she seemed to know his home rather well. Perhaps she had visited before.

He set his mug down.

“Here.” Handing him a cloth damp with cold water, Chiaki observed as he tenderly dabbed his inner thigh where the scalding was.

 

Akise felt a blissful sense of numbness as he dabbed, but could not help but wonder if Chiaki had timed that outburst. _Did she...intend to hurt me?_

Looking up at her, unsuccessful in meeting her gaze, Akise was at a loss. “Chiaki…” When she heard him use her first name, her expression softened.

“I should go.” As she moved, Akise gently took her wrist. “Please tell me how I have upset you,” He implored. He needed her to mould him into the character she was comfortable with, if only so he could spend more time with her.

 

Licking her lips, Chiaki’s shoulders slumped. She did not speak.

 

“Sit with me,” Akise said, though he tried to infuse the imperative with a tone of non-compulsion. She did, moving further from him and crossing her legs away from him.

 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, tension hanging tangibly between them. Akise wanted to speak again, but something told him Chiaki would respond when she was ready.

 

Eventually, she spoke up. “I know it’s only one day, and I know that everyone has bad days, but...It’s hard to phrase. You speak too formally, you react to situations differently and you even move differently. You’re more refined, and reserved. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but it’s so sudden. People don’t...change that quickly. At most you would have had a weekend to change - you seemed fine last Friday. But I feel like I…” Warily, she faced him again. “I don’t know you.”

Akise gulped.

Could he talk himself out of this, without telling her the truth? Without telling her what had previously happened to her, and who he really was?

_No. I cannot ever tell her the truth. It would ruin her chance of a normal life._

 

Hurriedly trying to think of a plan, Decim deduced that he needed more time to study any memories of Akise in order to moderate his behaviour with him. That way, Chiaki would not begin to avoid him.

He was just about to speak when Chiaki’s steel-tinted voice meet his ears softly. “Is it because of what happened between us.”

Though phrased as a question, she said it as a statement. Frowning, Akise hesitated. Was she talking about...Did she remember Quindecim? Had she somehow recognised Decim’s mannerisms?

 

Before he could answer, a collection of new memories hit him like a sledgehammer.

_Night. Summer. Alcohol. The warmth of another hand in his. The image of Chiaki, dancing with him to loud music in a club -_

 

“I…”

 

_Laughter. Smiles. Touches lingering. An invitation to have coffee which was not coffee. Stumbling together -_

 

“...No…”

 

_Home. Hallway. Thuds of bodies embracing against walls. The intense wetness of another mouth on his. The entwining of limbs and removal of clothes. Bedsheets. Smooth skin, beneath his fingers -_

 

Standing, both hands clutching his head, Akise was barely aware of Chiaki’s distress as he shuffled into the kitchen, dizzy and mortified.

 

_Heat. Moans. Rapid movements, the cold evaporation of perspiration. Paralysing pleasure. Clutching a hand that wasn’t his in the darkness. Breathy chuckles and whispered conversations._

“Oh no,” He breathed, shoulders feeling heavier as he set both palms on the dinner table, trying to calm his quickening breaths. How could he have done that, how could Akise have _done_ that -

 

“Akise, Akise what’s going on?” Chiaki had followed him to the kitchen, her voice quaking with anxiety. He could not answer.

“Do you need me to call the hosp -”

“Please leave,” He managed to utter as his eyes began to moisten.

 

“...What?”

 

_I do not want to repeat it, I do not…_ “P-please leave.” He knew how incredibly insulting this behaviour was, but he could not bring himself to look at her.

 Seconds passed, in which he could feel her glare on his back, before the sound of hastened footsteps and the slamming of his front door told him she had made her departure.

He locked the door. Had a shower. Got ready for bed. He was not hungry and he poured the leftover drinks down the sink.

Climbing into bed, he lay there in the darkness.

Akise was no longer comfortable in his body. More tears welled up before he could control them; they cascaded down his cheeks, soaking his pillow. They stung his eyes and he tasted bitterness when they rolled between his parted lips. His nose became blocked with mucus. He felt as if there were a ball lodged in his throat.

 

He, Decim, loved Chiyuki. She had been the first friend he had ever made. He loved Chiaki, because she was her reincarnation.

But he could not, would not ever initiate a romantic relationship with her. He did not love her romantically, nor sexually. But apparently, someone else did.

 

This unexpected turn of events made him reconsider his entire situation. Those memories were not his, even though the retrieval of them had led to a vague feeling of experiencing that scenario himself. So if he was here now, and he had not always been here, that meant that Akise Nakamori really was an entirely different person.

 

So, if Decim was here now….where was Akise?

 

* * *

 

“How would that even be possible?” Oculus spluttered, shocked, his frail hands gripping the edge of the billiards table for support.

Nona allowed herself a condescending smirk whilst the old man looked away. “It’s just a theory,” She reminded him, “but it has merit, don’t you think? Decim should have ceased his existence, but for some reason he hasn’t.”

 

“Con...contact Castra,” Oculus ordered, composing himself. “Have her send me that man’s memories. It must be verified.”

Clavis, having shaken himself from his disbelieving stupor, eventually spoke up. “But, if it’s true, what will happen then?”

The old man’s alienated eyes narrowed in anger. He glanced to Nona. “If this theory is correct, there will be nothing any of us can do. We will not even be able to tell him what’s happened.”

 

Nona bit her lip, folding her arms tighter over her chest. _He has a point._ “Decim isn’t stupid. There’s a good chance he will figure it out.”

 

Clavis looked down, still cradling the hollow mannequin in his arms as he added, softly, “I hope he doesn’t. The truth will destroy him.”

 

* * *

A/N: Apologies for the short chapter, but I felt it was the best place to pause.

 


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 

Perhaps he was just overthinking this.

 

Having got up the next day, Akise decided to file away all of last night’s emotional toil and focus on his new predicament.

 

He found his laptop, turned it on, then opened a browser.

 

Definitely overthinking this. But he simply had to check. Into the search engine, he typed _schizophrenia_.

To his knowledge he had never experienced any of the symptoms typically associated with schizophrenia - no voices, no hallucinations - unless…

Leaning back into his chair, Akise placed a thoughtful hand upon his chin. Come to think of it, he had been feeling incredibly disoriented lately. For example, his mixed memories. Perhaps all were his, but he was failing to recognise it?

_But they seem so different._ One set was of a twenty-six-year-old history teacher’s life, or aspects thereof, and another consisted of blurry images of a bar named Quindecim: soft neon lights, the outlines of peoples’ faces, panicking, screaming...and games. Lots of different games.

 

It was doubtful that Akise was a schizophrenic.  

 

Akise knew his proper name was Decim, bartender and judge of others. What he didn’t know was why he needed this second name, why he had this...second identity. Nobody else called him Decim. Perhaps it was the other way around, and Decim was the fake identity?

Again returning to Internet research, he looked up _multiple personality disorder_. However, after browsing various medical and psychology sites he found that this disorder was usually dismissed as ‘pop-psychology’ because there was little to no scientific evidence to prove that people’s personalities really did faction into sub-personalities.

 

No, this was not something caused by a mental dysfunction.

 

But if it was not mental, and most likely neither physical, that meant Akise found himself in the strangest of situations.

Then, he heard a phone begin to ring somewhere in his apartment. Heading out of his bedroom into the living room, Akise sought and found a mobile phone, stashed behind a sofa cushion. He did not even remember that he owned one. Apparently he had 5 new voicemails.

The caller said **Mother**.

 

_Beep_. “Hello.”

A cheery, lighthearted voice answered immediately. “ _Akise, my darling! How are you? You know, I’ve been trying to phone you for an hour now_!”

Strange. He had not heard the phone ring before this. Akise assumed he must have been too enveloped in his research. “I am sorry, Mother, I was distracted.”

“ _Ooh, this wouldn’t be because of a girl, now, would it_?”

“U-um, I-”

“ _Aha! I knew it_ ,” His mother continued, rambling on. “ _I don’t suppose it’s that Kozuma girl you told me about_?”

This was news to Akise. However, he deducted that seeing as Akise had told a close relative about Chiaki, that must mean he had intended to start a relationship with her. Or were they already in one? He couldn’t remember. Then again, he couldn’t even remember his own mother’s name at the moment. Akise sighed. “It...is possible that she and I have grown quite close,” thoughts of their first night together resurfaced unpleasantly, “lately.”

A somewhat childish giggle from the other line. “ _Ah, my boy is finally settling down! I shall have to meet her soon_!”

“N-no, Mother, I…” He struggled to find the necessary words, “...I do not intend to have a romantic relationship with her.”

Silence. Then, “.... _That’s a shame, dear. But, you told me the last time we spoke that you couldn’t stop thinking about her, that you wanted to be her partner. How has that changed so suddenly_?”

Ah. So Akise really did love Chiaki.

 

Clearing his throat, Akise seated himself on the couch, long legs apart. He imagined it would be easier to just speak the truth. “I seem to have, changed, a lot, recently. I am re-evaluating almost all of my current life choices. That includes my perception of how compatible myself and Chiaki are.”

His mother sounded confused. “ _Akise...You don’t need to do this, son. You don’t need to rethink anything, look how successful you are! A good job, your own apartment, and maybe even a girlfriend, too! I’m so proud of all you’ve achieved. And I know, your father would be too, if he were here_.” Another compilation of memories swirled into being: _a rainy Sunday, a small crowd of people dressed in black, all tear-stained faces and kind words. Himself, only a boy of six, clung desperately to his mother’s coat as they observed the long, wooden coffin being submerged in dirt. Yet another kind of sorrow to have experienced._

Still, Akise’s chiseled face flushed red at her uplifting words. But he still felt uncomfortable, like those words weren’t really for him. _Who else could they be for?_ He questioned incredulously. _There is no one else to hear them_. “Thank you. I am truly pleased by your support, Mother, yet I still feel...different.”

“ _Midlife crisis_?” Joked his mother weakly. He attempted another laugh, but frankly it sounded even worse than his first attempt so he stopped. “I am only twenty-six.”

They stayed in mutual silence for a short while.

“ _Listen, dear, I know it can be difficult, living on your own. It can make you have doubts. But trust me when I say you were born to teach - even in high school, you said you wanted to be a teacher! And remember, there is a difference between incompatibility and individual differences._ ”

Whilst Akise understood her words, there was little comfort to be gained by them. “I know, Mother. Are you well?” Only now his manners kicked in. How could he have so selfishly directed the conversation towards himself without first checking his mother’s health status? Although, he reasoned, she sounded perfectly fine.

 

“ _I’m perfectly fine, thank you,_ ” Came her predictable reply. “ _I was actually thinking of coming to visit you soon - we hardly get to see each other now_!”

 

Akise would have preferred to spend a little more time alone, figuring out why he had apparently changed so much, but concluded that this visit proposal was more a notification than an ask of permission. “Yes,” He managed, “that sounds lovely.”

His mother squeaked - actually _squeaked_ \- with delight. “ _Oh, I can’t wait to see my wonderful boy! And, hopefully, his new girlfriend_?”

Akise spluttered, agitated. “Well, I - No, I doubt that I -”

“ _What did I just say? You deserve to have a nice relationship, Akise_!”

“But -”

“ _No buts! At least introduce me, from what you’ve told me, she’s a wonderful girl. Now, I hope to see you both next Saturday, okay_?”

Next -? Really? Had his mother always been this assertive? Akise felt cornered, and, bluntly put, quite exhausted. Rubbing his cheek with his free palm, Akise nodded once. “Very well, I look forward to seeing you.”

_Beep_.

 

Allowing himself to slide further into the couch cushions, Akise hoped that maybe they would swallow him up so he did not have to deal with these unexpected problems.

 

Firstly, the matter of his identity and memory adjustments: he did not appear to be achieving much success on that front, so decided to leave it be for the time being.

Secondly, the problem of his mother coming to visit next weekend: admittedly an easy enough problem to solve, he simply had to clean up the apartment a little, buy more food, and if needs be set up the spare bedroom.

Finally... _Chiaki_. Gosh, what was he going to do. How could he fix this? He remembered his last words to her: _Please leave_. So commanding. So final.

 

Akise looked helplessly at the phone in his hand. Scrolling through contacts, he saw **Kozuma** , **Chiaki** as one of his most frequent callers.

 

Perhaps he should call her now. _But_ … Glancing at the clock, which read 13:30, he guessed that this being a Tuesday, she would be at work in the school now.

A text, then? It was more reserved, and she could read it later.

 

Typing out a simple, yet non-apathetic, message, he sent it before dressing and heading out to buy groceries. It said: **I’m very sorry. Will you please call me?**

* * *

 

“Damn, it’s been two days already!” Nona growled, slamming her fist down on Ginti’s wooden bar.

“Hey, watch it!” Scolded the red-haired man as he caught the falling Shinto dolls and reset them neatly.

 

“I mean, we can’t even contact him! We know where he is, we know _who_ he is, but we can’t help him at all!” She downed another cocktail.

 

“Thought you wanted him to be independent?” Asked Ginti, a condescending smirk on his face. “‘Bout time that baby grew up -”

“Be quiet, I’m trying to think,” His employer demanded as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “If we don’t find a way to contact him soon, the result could be having to watch him suffer.”

 

“We can’t just call him up, or send him a letter,” Nona continued, “he’s likely no longer an Arbiter; he is a living man.”

 

“Perhaps we may be able to speak with him,” Clavis speculated. “I mean, yeah, he’s not one of us anymore but is he really a human now? Surely if he retained some memory of his time here, that could validate an attempt at communication.”

Ginti gave a derisive scoff. “What’s the big deal? He’s gone, he’s now alive. So what? Maybe he won’t figure it out, and we are worrying about nothing.”

Nona ground her teeth in frustration, balling her fists by her sides. _I will have to tell them._

“Look, Decim’s safety...is not the primary reason I want to contact him,” The light-haired girl began softly. She could see Ginti and Clavis wearing expectant expressions.

 

“If we can talk to Decim, if he remembers us, then maybe he can help me prove to Oculus that a change around here can be made. A change that would benefit our arbitration system.”

“What exactly would Decim help to prove?” Ginti criticised. “That Arbiters with human emotions are likely to run off and try reincarnation, because they have emotional ties? That the addition of human emotions only complicates our jobs, that it induces pain? Oculus has a point, Nona. If we had human emotions...we’d all end up like Decim: deluded and impulsive. How can one make objective judgements if one is emotionally frayed?”

“Judgements are never objective,” She retorted, “not in the human world, and not here either. As much as we’d like to believe otherwise. But we do what we can.” Her violet eyes locked with the redhead’s. “I understand that emotions bring suffering, but they also bring empathy, and purpose.”

 

“And corruption.”

 

“Like that doesn’t already happen here? I have managed to bribe Quinn and Castra.”

 

Clavis, who was looking rather forlorn, brushed a hand through his cropped hair. “Why can’t we just let all souls into the same place: all reincarnation.”

 

“Because there is a danger that anyone who has committed atrocities such as murder, or any other human crime, will not only be reborn, but also those same traits will still be inside them, like an innate need for violence or something,” Nona explained monotonously. “It is not our job solely to eradicate corruptive souls from the Earth’s population, but it helps if we can stop many being reincarnated. God knows there are enough deviants already in existence.”

“Speaking of,” Ginti interjected, “how would we go about communicating with Decim?”

“It’s probably not an easy task,” Commented Clavis. At this, Nona smiled. “Actually, boys, it can be. In the memories of every soul we can usually find all kinds of details: PIN numbers, addresses, passwords, phone numbers and so on….we might have access to that information,” She seemed momentarily upset, but carried on. “We could just call him.”

 

“Oculus has gone to see Castra, we’ll have to wait until he returns,” The redheaded bartender concluded.

To everyone present, the situation resembled a jury in court, awaiting a final ruling.

* * *

.

 


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Akise awoke to find his alarm clock ringing obnoxiously loud. He silenced it brutally. He sat up and attempted to conjure threads to open the wardrobe doors; when none appeared, his reasoning came back to him.  _You cannot do that anymore_ , he reminded himself, _do not be lazy_.

Yawning, he shuffled over and opened a wardrobe door, choosing a simple set of clothing to wear. Now that he no longer owned a bartender’s outfit, no other clothing really made him feel comfortable - especially, he recalled, not suits on hot days. Turning around, he picked up his phone and checked it.

No new messages.

He paced it down again.

 

A loud clanging sound made Akise spin; the bridge of his nose collided with the open door, and his head reeled back, hands clutching at yet another injury. Tears welled and a tingling pain leaked into his facial nerves as he breathed through his mouth.

Flustered, Akise rushed into the hallway, desperate to find what the source of noise had been. He saw a pile of mail below his metal letterbox. He collected it and deposited it on a nearby table - it was all junk mail.

 Tasting blood, he moved one hand away to peer at it: surely enough, there were drops of red on his palm. His phone began to ring.

As he returned to his bedroom, Akise almost tripped over a trashcan and momentarily wondered how long he would last in this cruel world before finally answering the call. He’d had to pinch the nose cartridge, so his voice sounded incredibly odd.

“Hello?”

The other person hesitated. “... _Is this Akise_?”

“Y-yes. Who is this?” Akise had forgotten to check who was calling.

“ _It’s Toru, man! How could you forget my voice_?” Toru laughed briefly. “ _Are you alright? You sound sick._ ”

Akise found some tissues and shoved a couple up his nose to stem the steady flow of blood. “I - no, I, I have just woken up. And I hit my nose on a door. It’s bleeding.”

Toru laughed again, and Akise could pick out the sound of traffic behind his voice. “ _That’s totally like you. I dunno why Chiaki was so worried! Apart from the whole Mr Bump thing, you sound fine to me. Are you, though_?”

“...Am I what?”

“ _Fine? Like, really? ‘Cause she really wanted me to talk to you. She seemed freaked out, big time. Is it ok if I call in? She told me you’re off work_.”

Akise tried to dredge up memories of Toru, but was thus far unsuccessful. “Um. As I said, I have only just got up -”

“ _Oh that’s cool, it’ll be like an hour before I get there. Got some shopping to do._ ”

Well, at least Chiaki had not completely rejected him after their last talk, if she was urging others to check up on him, Akise reasoned. Always the affectionate person, he recalled. Always the one who thought of how her reactions might affect others, and always the one who considered how she could help those experiencing distress.

Chiyuki had always been the one who did what Decim could not. Chiaki was no different.

 

“Yes. Bye.” Unsure, Akise hung up. Glancing at the clock, he determined that he still had time for a shower.

Stood under the spray, Akise let out a long breath as water cascaded down his chest, back to the cold tiles.

What was happening?

He had scared Chiaki away. His mother was visiting on Saturday. Some man called Toru had invited himself over today. He searched Akise’s memories. He had no recollection of what Toru looked like, so he went by voice alone, until a memory came up.

 

_“Oi, Nakamori!” The voice was cheery, child-like. Akise registered it just as a figure crashed into him, arms enveloping him in a hug. For their first day in high school, Toru sure was spritely today. Toru Asuka’s wild chestnut hair was unkempt and seemed to be infused with the same spark that lit up his eyes. “You ok?”_

_Begrudgingly trying to remove Toru’s arms from himself, Akise grunted. “It’s Monday, before 9am, and it’s cold outside. No, Toru, I’m not ok. I want to sleep. And get off me.”_

_Toru laughed. “Ah, but cold weather is great! Everyone looks so cute when it’s cold - their cheeks and noses are all red and adorable!”_

_“You sound like a lovesick girl.”_

_“And you sound like a Hikikomori* but I don’t complain.”_

_Akise scoffed. “You do. All the time. You tell me I’m too grumpy.” Toru punched him lightly on the arm as they walked. “Well, you are! It’s almost like my presence doesn’t cheer you up.”_

_Turning his head to face Toru, Akise gave a wry smile. “Yeah, almost.” At that, Toru mock-attacked him again; Akise wrestled back, laughing at the way Toru was pretending to be offended._

_As it happened, that first Monday hadn’t been so bad after all._

Akise remembered. Toru was an old friend. He’s left high school early to focus on working and helping his younger siblings as his parents had been so busy with their own work. Now he worked as a bouncer for a local nightclub. Although, Akise and he had a long-running joke that Toru was less of a bouncer, more of a dancer.

Stepping out of the shower, Akise had to brush away the wet curtain of black hair from before his eyes. He would have to get it cut soon, unless he fancied being the poster guy of some rock band.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and caught a glimpse of his torso in the mirror above the sink. Something was on his shoulder, near the nape of his neck. Twisting his body awkwardly, Akise was able to see the dark, yet small, markings.

 

Akise Nakamori did not recognise these markings. But Decim did. There, very faintly upon his skin, resembling a faded tattoo, was the inscription: **MDL 010**.

 

His heart rate began to increase. His mouth went dry. All of a sudden, he felt as if a ball of shock had landed at the bottom of his stomach with a loud thud; he could almost hear its impact.  _No. I do not want to think about this_. Despite his protest, Akise could feel his mind toiling over the facts, trying to piece them together as if he were a jigsaw.

This was not his body. Fact. Decim did not have this mole on his upper right arm, he did not have a burn scar on his left palm, he did not have a birthmark on his calf.

And he most certainly did not have naturally black hair.

He once more took a stance in front of the mirror. His body felt light, airy; it did not feel like his body. It was as if his consciousness had taken up residence inside a body that was not his own. He looked into the mirror, but between himself and the body he saw there he sensed a long, terrible distance.

Yet he was all too present in the body itself: his pulse, his breathing, the sensation of cold porcelain against his palms. His organs felt so heavy with dread, it was as if they had been coated in cement.

 

Moving away into his room, Akise sat on his bed, bringing an hand up to a temple in confusion.  _I must be mistaken. This must be my body. All of my memories, no matter what name I take, seem to be from this perspective._

He thought about his research the other day. He would later think himself a fool for doing this, but right now he had to try. Tentatively, internally, he called out. _...Hello? Is...anybody there?_

Silence. Even as he dressed, no one replied.

_Hello?_ It seemed like Decim was in the giant, dimly-lit dome of his mind, and every time he called out, it was his voice alone which echoed back.

 

It was an incredibly isolated place to be.

 

_I am alone in here, then_. Such thoughts brought a sense of loneliness, of despair, even. He pulled himself from those thought patterns and back into the bright, sensitive consciousness within.

Just then, a quick rap of knuckles was heard at the door. Relieved to have a distraction, Akise all but pounced to open it.

There in the hallway stood a man shorter than he, one with spiked, messy hair, kind dark eyes, and a mischievous grin. Toru Asuka wore slacks with running shoes, a loose T-shirt and an inconspicuous hoody marked with a brand Akise didn’t care to name. Toru carried several full shopping bags, but still attempted to hug him. “Hey, man! I haven’t seen you in a while!” Akise coughed as he felt the contents of the bags slam into his sides.

“Y-yes...been a long time.”

Marching into the apartment like he owned the place, Toru set his bags down on the counters in the kitchen. “So, how’s life treatin’ ya?” Akise closed the door, then stood by it, wringing his hands. He averted his gaze, trying to think of a reply.

 

“Dude, you look like a sulking kid. What’s up?” Toru stepped closer, hands in his pockets. Akise detected concern in his voice.

Finally, Akise decided that he couldn’t be bothered to lie. “I think something has happened to me.”

Toru chuckled. “That’s one way to talk about losing your virginity -”

“N-no! I - I mean…” Had that really been Akise’s first time? When he had been with Chiaki? And...he had _told_ someone about it? A feeling sprinted through his flesh. It bubbled, and gurgled, and was sickly in both texture and taste: disgust.

 

To Decim, private matters stay private.

 

“...I mean that I seem to be experiencing symptoms associated with concussion,” His monotonous voice continued, “except it cannot be a concussion. I am confused and I do not know how to remedy that.”

Toru himself appeared uncertain. He moved towards Akise as though he were a deer scoping a landscape for danger. “Okay. Why don’t we, sit?”

  
Both men seated themselves on kitchen chairs. Toru wrung his hands, the fabric of his sleeves crinkling. “Chiaki warned me that you were being weird.”

To this, Akise was lost on how to respond. He gulped. “That is...kind of her.”

 

“What do you think has happened to you?”

 

A structured question, Akise realised. Phrased to suggest that it is solely Akise who feels different. Which, Akise determined, could well be factual.

“On Monday, I woke up,” He started softly, avoiding eye contact as he remembered, “...I looked at myself in the mirror, and for a moment I had no idea who was staring back. Then I recalled my name, Akise Nakamori, and yet ever since something has not been right. Something has changed, something is missing -”

 

_Something is missing_. The words he’d spent hours searching for had finally been found.

 

Unfortunately, Toru looked more uncomfortable at Akise’s revelation. He straightened his spine and Akise noticed that Toru’s knuckles were white from their grip on one another. Before Akise could protest, Toru moved to grab his head with both hands, forcibly locking gazes. Akise’s glacial-blue orbs peered into the maudlin brown of Toru’s, the electrifying pulse of fear momentarily freezing his muscles.

After what seemed like hours, Toru released his head and spoke. “You aren’t kidding.”

Pulling back, Akise shook his head, once. “No...I am not.”

“Your eyes are different. Lighter. Have you been wearing colour contacts? Chiaki said that would explain it  -”

“These are my eyes, Toru. To me, they don’t seem to have changed at all.”

 

Toru blinked. “....But -”

 

“I have always had these eyes.”

 

“If this is some kind of prank, you stop it right now!” Toru stood, shoulders squared. Akise felt a twinge of his heart when he saw the hurt expression on his friend’s face.

_I am treading on eggshells._ “...It is not a joke.” Wearily, Akise looked up at Toru, dark strands of hair blocking one eye from view. “Help me, Toru. Please.” The other man was clearly shocked, and maybe even fearful of Akise. He stepped back. “Even if...I mean why….How. How would I help?”

It was only after that question had been posed towards him that Akise realised he had no expectations of an answer. He had not prepared one. Perhaps, deep down, he had known that asking these people for help was futile. Because they were completely human.

He couldn’t even certify his identity.

“Akise?”

“...Never mind. Please forget that I asked.” _I have no idea how you could help me_ , he wanted to add, but this time an alarm sounded, telling him that this neutral comment would likely be received with offence.

 Toru was simply being...Toru, and for now, that was good enough.

Rustling sounds brought him out of his pensive stupor. Toru set down some packets in front of him.

“Melon bread?” He queried.

“It’s your favourite snack...remember?” Toru still looked like a rabbit in the headlights. Akise berated himself for causing his friend to worry so. “I wish I did. Thank you.”

They exchanged a brief goodbye before Toru left, his shopping bags in hand. Exasperated, Akise made himself some tea, eating the melon bread with it. It tasted quite bland, yet pleasant.

Twenty minutes later, as Akise was washing up from yesterday’s meals, his landline began to ring. Hurrying to fetch it, he wiped his soapy hands on his shirt before picking up the receiver. “Hello, this is Akise Nakamori.”

 

Silence. Static. Muffled voices.

 “...Hello?”

“- _signal is bad here - yeah, hang on_ -”

“Who is this?” Akise checked the screen; there was no caller ID.

 

Eventually, the static subsided. “ _Decim_.”

 

Akise’s heart beat a tattoo in his oesophagus. Nobody had called him Decim since…  _That voice. I know that voice._ He searched his memory for the person’s name.

 

“...Gerald?”

 

A girl’s laughter could be heard in the background. The caller was not impressed. “ _Wh - my name is not Gerald! It’s Ginti, you jackass._ ”

Ah. Ginti. Yes that appeared to fit the rough voice better. “Ginti...from Quindecim?”

“ _Holy shit. You remember Quindecim? I’m impressed_.”

Relief washed over Akise, loosening his taut muscles. Finally, someone who understood something he said. “Ginti, please tell me what’s going on.”

More voices in the background. “ _I - Nona, he’s not brain-dead - look - Decim I’m passing the phone to Nona because she’s ready to blow a gasket - ow_!” After some fumbling on the other end, an intelligent female voice spoke.

“ _Are you alright_?”

“I am merely confused, Miss Nona.” She hesitated. “ _I see. What’s the last thing you remember, Decim_?”

 “...I remember sitting at the bar in Quindecim. It was empty. Then I remember waking up in Japan.”

She seemed to be pondering a question; deciding how to properly word it. “... _Are you human_?”

Akise’s thoughts blurred. “I’m afraid I do not understand, Ma’am -”

“ _You’re an Arbiter, Decim_!” She blurted angrily. “ _Or, you were. I’m asking what you are now_.”

 

“I am Akise Nakamori.”

 

“ _I said what, not who_!”

 

“U-uhm...I - I have a pulse, if that is what you mean...Everyone treats me as human, therefore I conclude that I am. Are Arbiters not human, then?”

“.... _No. They’re not. Dammit, Decim_ …” Her voice was wrapped with strings of emotions. Resignation. Pity. Sympathy. Strange, for a dummy to express emotions it did not have. Such were the talents of Arbiters.

Akise, Decim, felt an inexplicable sadness. It seemed that talking to these people brought a sense of longing. One could compare it to homesickness. “Am I in trouble, Miss Nona?”

 

“ _Decim, listen to me: you have been reincarnated. Or rather, you have been given life. You’re alive, Decim,_ ” Nona sighed gently. “ _But you’re not supposed to be_.” 

* * *

 He listened intently. He listened with disbelief as Nona explained what had happened: out of loneliness he had attempted reincarnation, and survived. He had, Nona said, been given a body all his own. By his own will, Decim had placed himself not only in the same country as the reincarnated Chiyuki, but also in her vicinity, in her life.

 

“ _It is an unprecedented occurrence_ ,” Nona finished. “ _There is no record of this ever happening to Arbiters. Consider yourself lucky, Decim._ ”

Decim, whilst relieved to have received some answers, was still agitated. Something was missing. Or, did not fit. Like someone had tried shoving the wrong piece into his jigsaw puzzle, just to see it completed.

“Miss Nona, if this body is indeed my own, then why do I have black hair? At Quindecim, I am sure my hair was white.”

“ _Please note that your nationality has developed. Most Japanese people have naturally dark hair; it is understandable that a reincarnation of you would have at least some Japanese characteristics_.”

Decim nodded. “I see. But what of my memories? I have two different sets…”

There was yet another hesitation on the other end.

“ _Since this is a unique situation, another person’s memories must have merged with your consciousness during the transition to humanity. I can’t imagine they would be much of a bother, simply ignore them_.”

Decim wasn’t satisfied. “But these memories have links to my own! They feel like my own!” He could not restrain the tone of desperation in his voice. “These memories…” He repeated, softer this time, “they -”

“ _Stop_ ,” Commanded Nona. “ _Just stop, Decim. It was a mistake, do you hear me? Ignore them. They are a useless byproduct of your reincarnation_.”

“Miss Nona -”

 

“ _A mistake_!” She retorted heavily. Decim could hear her pulse racing through the receiver. He dropped the subject. 

His shoulders slumping, Decim’s gaze drifted towards the floor in defeat. “Yes, Ma’am. I understand.”

“ _Good_.” Nona waited a minute before speaking again. “ _We have missed you, Decim. We thought you were gone_.”

Images of Nona, short yet untouchable, and Ginti, grumpy yet strong, and Clavis, passive yet sociable, poured into Decim’s mind. “...I have missed you all, too. I am terribly sorry to cause you concern.”

The conversation was coming to an end, Decim knew it. He signed off with the traditional question he always posed to his manager, before he thought it through. “What am I to do, now, Ma’am?”

He was accustomed to instructions from Nona. After all, a dummy could not solely conduct itself when performing such as job as his previous occupation, without guidance.

“... _Whatever you want, Decim. I am no longer your superior. You have been given life to use as you wish. Try not to die, though. We aren’t sure what would happen in that scenario. Good luck to you_ -”

“W-wait! Please,” Decim gripped the receiver, clinging onto the only recognisable aspect of his life, “please do not cut me off. I would like to continue communicating with you.”

Nona swallowed. “ _We shall have to be careful, I’m under supervision myself right now. Phone calls would have to be pre-arranged_.”

 

“Once a week. Every seven days, on Monday at 6pm. Please.”

“... _Very well. Until then, goodbye Decim_.”

 

“Goodbye, Miss Nona.”

Decim replaced the receiver with more force than he intended. The action resembled a guillotine blade falling onto the suspecting victim’s head, as had taken place throughout history many, many times.

* * *

* A Hikikomori is the Japanese term for the abnormal avoidance of social contact, typically by adolescent males, or just a person who avoids social contact. It is considered an insult. 

 

 


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 

Nona put the phone down. She and Ginti were once again settled in Ginti's bar.

Ginti finished mixing her order, and handed her the fresh  _cuba libre_.

"'Useless byproduct'?" He questioned, one fiery red eyebrow spiked. Nona scowled, staring at her reflection in the dark liquid. "Shut up."

"Why didn't you tell him? He was asking - he knows something is wrong," Ginti slumped over the counter, his chin resting atop his knuckles.

"I couldn't do that to him." She took a large swig from her glass. "Decim's cocktails were better."

"Your tastebuds are defective." Ginti was too harried from a days' work of judgements that he could not even feign offense at Nona's comment. "So why couldn't you tell him the truth?"

"I - I didn't  _lie_ , exactly," Nona sat up straighter. "The second set of memories is not meant to be there."

"Oculus came back with the results, though, he and Castra confirmed it. That's how we got Akise's number. From his memories."

"Yes, yes, I am aware that we have a copy of the man's memories. Either that, or what Decim is witnessing is actually an echo of another consciousness."

"Remember who Decim was: an Arbiter used to being sent other people's memories to analyse. He is used to seeing everything, to knowing everything - he's not used to being kept in the dark."

"Then he needs to accommodate! Because I cannot bring myself to tell him what really happened," Covering her eyes with the splayed fingers of one hand, Nona licked her lips. "Decim holds respect for those who have lived fulfilled lives."

"That's pretty much his catchphrase, yeah."

"We've seen Akise's past: he was a good kid, with good grades, who took care of his mother despite harrowing events like the death of his father. Akise was considerate and cared for his friends, but not without a playfulness of character which Decim simply lacks. Akise became a history teacher because he loved the subject, and he loved the idea of passing on his knowledge to others. Decim has always been secretive with the knowledge he holds - it was necessary for arbitration. Akise was an efficient, sympathetic teacher. His students looked up to him - Ginti, do you see where I'm going with this?"

Ginti looked bored."You think that Decim should never become a teacher?"

"By my judgement, Akise Nakamori has lived a fulfilling life. But he doesn't exist anymore," Nona leaned in, her shining eyes freezing Ginti on the spot. "Who exists now, Ginti?"

 

"Decim." His expression sobered into one of resignation. "...Oh."

* * *

 

Oculus stood before the billiard's table. He reached across and took the little model of Earth in his palm. He grabbed both sides of the planet, twisted clockwise, until a click was heard. Taking apart the two pieces, inside the Earth a small black button was exposed. Oculus pressed this button.

_Chik-chik-chik_ …. _click_. On the other side of the room, a section of the old stonework receded, sliding back to the right, revealing a dimly-lit hall.

Walking forward, the old man stopped at the entrance. Inside the hall, the hollow corpses of dummies hung on the walls; some incomplete, some burned, some split like polystyrene cups.

But most of them, the 5,000 strongest, stood in rows and columns.

Warriors. Soldiers.

Every one of them, men, women, all coated in armour. This armour was thick, heavy, forged and moulded in Oculus' own furnace of burning souls.

These soldiers didn't need faces: masks covered their expressionless profiles, masks tinted with red and purple and gold.

Every single one of them had their wrists bound by double-looped chains. Oculus knew this would not be enough to contain them. But he didn't need to restrain them: they were his, completely under his influence. And they would not move until he commanded so.

For now, he gazed with pride upon his creations. For an heir to God, he fancied himself rather talented in the art of fabrication.

Nona was getting out of hand. Her wild theories and the frightening evidence to support them weren't being held secret as Oculus had wished. Instead, on his rounds of the Arbitration Tower, he would overhear hushed conversations about Arbiters gaining human emotions, about how a change is coming.

Technically, he reasoned, the latter was accurate. The old man licked his leathery lips in anticipation. He was just  _waiting_  for Nona to make a move, as was inevitable. Once she did, he was fully justified in his retaliation.

Regardless of whether he'd been planning this retaliation for a decade now, soon would come the time to release the swarm upon the Arbiters, in order to maintain organisation, before the entire system imploded.

"Soldiers," Whispered Oculus to no-one, "I have long awaited the time in which you are most needed. With an army of this size, all the Arbiters in existence will not be able to resist oppression." A grin creased his mouth, yellowed teeth glinting with saliva. "Watch your back, Nona. It will be the place I strike first."

His emotionless eyes skimmed over the word inscribed upon every soldier's chestplate, carved deep. It was the name he'd given to his legion:  _Supernova_.

* * *

It was the third day.

 

It felt like a whole lifetime had passed. How did normal people do this every day? Were all days the same to them? Did they breeze past at the speed of an eyeblink, or, as for Akise, did they drag endlessly on?

Heaving the full shopping bags onto the counters, Akise allowed himself a couple of coughs at the strain. The late afternoon light spewed it's shallow glow through the windows. Having come back from his outing, such an event had not drastically improved Akise's mood. He had run into at least five elderly people who had stopped him, demanding to know how he was and why he was not at work and it wasn't the school holidays already was it?

All of them had spoken as if they knew him well. Akise reasoned that they probably knew Akise very well….but he had no current recollections about any of them. Akise did congratulate himself on behaving more like 'Akise', changing his body posture, walking gait and facial expressions to those resembling the Akise of his memories.

So far, nobody had commented on any lack of idiosyncrasies, so he simply continued with it.

Putting the groceries and other items away, Akise only hesitated when he thought he'd heard a sound.

_A...knock?_  He listened intently.

_Knock knock._  An uncertain rap of knuckles on his front door.

Tension seeped into Akise's body once more, his muscles lifting and tightening as if pulled by fish-hooks which were dug into his skin. Forcing his feet to carry him forwards, the dark-haired man opened the door.

Chiaki was stood on his doorstep. Her arms were folded, her makeup was particularly striking, and her work bag was settled next to her feet.

Akise didn't say anything. His mind provided no useful words with which to interact, merely a litany of incomprehensible gibberish.

"I know you said to call," Chiaki began, "but I prefer it when people apologise in person."

* * *

_Stepping back, Akise squared his shoulders. "What, you want me to apologise for what I said? Pretend I regret saying it?"_

_Chiaki, shocked, regained composure and nodded firmly. "Kicking me out like that when I was trying to care for you, it hurt me."_

_"Well you know what hurts me? Not fucking knowing who I am anymore!" Akise growled, temper inflaming. "These have been the most hellish three days of my life, Chiaki, and you don't understand any of it, you don't need to. No, Chiaki just assumes she knows what's going on -"_

_"What the hell? How have these days been 'hellish'?"_

_Akise stopped. He did. All brain function, all sensory information; even his heart felt still. Then he realised: this was ineffable. How could he ever expect someone on the outside to understand?_

_Averting his azure eyes, he forced himself to bite his tongue. "It doesn't matter."_

_Chiaki was using that look again. The look of uncertainty, of wariness. She already believed she no longer knew him, Akise deducted that much. But why would one visit a stranger?_

_"You told me to leave," She murmured. Akise couldn't meet her eyes; he knew they'd be tearful. "When I asked you if…" Chiaki continued, "...if this was some kind of rebound from...You, you were disgusted. You couldn't even look at me. Why would you sleep with me if I was so repellent to you? And why wait until now to say something about it? It was over a year ago."_

_Akise didn't want to think about this. He loved her, he didn't want_  to hurt her. Decim had never intentionally hurt Chiyuki before and he never wanted to wound Chiaki.

In those split seconds after she had arrived, he had imagined a scenario in which he acted completely as Akise Nakamori would. That would have led to more conflict; such was the nature of being human.

Akise didn't know what he was now. But he remembered identifying himself human when Nona had asked. Was he just one big lie?

"I'm sorry," He blurted. Chiaki's shadowed eyes remained serious, but nonetheless she thanked him for his cooperation.

"Please, come in," Akise offered, standing aside. "I, uh, promise not to be rude this time."

Picking up her bag, Chiaki went over and seated herself not on the sofa, he noticed, but on one of the living-room chairs.

Perhaps memories really did stick to objects.

"I can't stay for long," She admitted. "I have a lot of work to do. And seeing as you're off sick, I also need to prepare cover lessons for your classes."

"Your work is much appreciated." Out of courtesy, Akise offered her a beverage, but upon her polite decline, he simply sat on the sofa, opposing her. Dammit. He would make this right. "I know that I've been acting strange lately," He began, twiddling his thumbs anxiously and keeping his gaze from her, "and I...I think you're right."

"Oh?"

"It...is simply a…" Losing the sentence Akise tried again. "Everything I've been doing, it had all caught up with me, and it's just taking a large toll on me. Mentally. At the moment.

"When you mentioned...our history...it dawned on me...how cruel I can be," This was the biggest lie he had ever told in his life. Decim hoped he could sell it; the integration of lies and vague truths helped a lot. Finally, he forced himself to look up.

Chiaki's hands were clenched in her lap, and her knees were shaking ever so slightly. She looked confused, and scared.

_I never wanted to see her scared._  Decim recalled all the times Chiyuki had been frightened, or intimidated, or desperate during the tribunals they had co-conducted. He had already seen enough of her fear to last him a lifetime.

"I didn't want a romantic relationship then,"  _Lie_ , "and I still don't."  _Truth_. "I was scared that my actions had led you on to pursue me,"  _Lie_ , "and I began to panic about righting our friendship before it became sour."  _Truth_.

Black strands of hair framed his stoic eyes. "Please forgive me. I do want to be friends."

His gaze dropped again, suddenly appearing to find extreme interest in his own shoes.

Then, he heard a giggle.

Startled, Akise was taken aback to see Chiaki laughing, one hand covering her smile. As she settled down she elaborated, " _That's_  why you freaked out? Akise, I knew it was casual! I only ever wanted casual, I wasn't ready to start dating. Damn...I'm sorry, too, I had a crazy moment where I thought you'd started to hate me - because I thought that you thought that I had led you on!" She chuckled again. "At school, with you having to work with me every day...I thought you'd gotten sick of me."

Despite not fully comprehending the atmosphere, Akise chuckled lightly, too.

Chiaki relaxed back into the chair. "We're such idiots."

Akise quirked an eyebrow in agreement. They both had gotten angry for the same reason. Except, in Akise's memories, it hadn't been casual.

Akise Nakamori had treasured Chiaki Kozuma, had kissed the ground she walked on. That much could be seen from the state of the memories themselves. Even the memories from school, when Akise had been teaching and had run into her first thing, or when they drank their coffee together at break, all those memories were pristine and polished. If ever there were romantic feelings present, they had never been mutual.

"So," Akise cleared his dry throat, "we're...good now?" At this question he received a soft smile. "Of course, Akise. Just, focus on getting your head clear."

"Y-yes. I intend to." Just then, Akise remembered another event he had to discuss with his friend. "Ah, Chiaki…"

"Hm?"

"My mother phoned the other day. A while ago, I told her about you," He tried not to incorporate all of the exact information Akise had hold his mother, "about how good a friend you are. She's coming to visit this weekend, and...I would like for you to meet her at dinner, on Saturday."

"This isn't sounding so casual," Chiaki commented wryly, eyes narrowing.

"N-no, not as my girlfriend," The man clarified. "Only as a friend."

Chiaki contemplated the preposition for a moment. Then, she let out a puff of air. "Alright, Nakamori. But no candles."

A soft, cotton-like emotion enveloped Akise's heart: happiness. It had been so long since he had felt truly contented. Akise felt a genuine smile gracing his lips. "No candles."

* * *

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this one!


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 

It had taken mere hours to collect the necessary Arbiters.

There were only thirty gathered, counting Nona, Ginti, Clavis, and Quinn. Castra had begun to get paranoid about Oculus’s hawk eyes, and had refused to attend. Passing the message around discretely had proved more difficult in practice than in theory.

The message contained news of a rebellion. All those in favour of change to arrive on the 90th Floor by the end of their work day today.

 

Nona’s bar, much like the great, crumbled coliseum she so enjoyed visiting, was of Greek design. Decorated in the classic Greek colours of white and blue, the overhead beams were coated azure, with clean, marble bar counters and contemporary, thin furniture. Delicate lamps dangled from the ceiling, and the wallpaper of the bar had a stonework pattern with an illusion of arch windows, through which the painted scenery of Mykonos could be seen.  

Nona herself, in her usual outfit, sat atop the counter in order to be seen by the crowd. Her legs swung idly as she spoke with a voice of steel.

 

“Just so we’re clear, this is the beginnings of a rebellion. Oculus will no doubt find out about this, and he will certainly try to stop it. But this change is inevitable, and it’s coming soon. Arbiters are evolving. In time, it is expected that Arbiters will find a way to develop human emotions.” In the crowd, only blank or seemingly uncomprehending expressions were the response to her words.

One could hardly expect less from dummies. This kind of stoic function was exactly what Nona aimed to eradicate, in favour of able-minded, sympathetic and realistic judgement. She understood that they were not humans, that they arguably had no rights to judge as humans would, but continued nonetheless.

“Rule number one of arbitration: Arbiters can never stop making judgements for it is more than their job, it is their sole reason for existing,” Her eyes caught Ginti’s as she held one finger aloft, “this is quite a responsibility. The change I want to see will not directly result in our decease. If anything it will enhance our powers of making rulings. But -”

“Excuse me,” A nameless Arbiter proclaimed, “but in my most recent storage of human memories I can see the damage that human emotions can cause. They are perhaps the only common factor in the deaths of all humans - especially the ones involving homicide or other violent means. Why on Earth would we want to possess such a self-destructive weapon as that?”

 

“Emotions drive humans, it is true,” Nona conceded, “but think about how much more enriched their lives are. For better or worse, the emotions provide a range of perspectives from which making judgements can be improved. God knows how many souls have been sent to the void just because we Arbiters couldn’t understand the intricate jargon of human feelings.” She thought of one of Decim’s first guests, a woman who had been disingenuous simply to protect her husband. _A mistake. He didn’t see it, and neither could I. Until a human pointed it out._

 

“Emotions bring pain!” The crowd began to bustle, Arbiters becoming wary and suspicious. “Emotions ruin people! Surely they would ruin us!”

 

Ginti, leaning on the side of the bar, folded his arms and cast a look toward Nona which translated into ‘ _Told you_ ’. After sparing him a glare, Nona returned her attention to the audience, keeping her voice level. “You would equate being emotionally aware to being ruined? How interesting.” Her entire posture suddenly hardened, her hands gripping the countertop, knuckles whitening as she snarled, “I am doing this, regardless of whether or not I have allies. I need Arbiters to fight with me for this revolution of the arbitration system, and I need my soldiers prepared not only to defeat Oculus, but to be prepared to have human emotions. Really, Arbiters already have emotions, but they are incredibly muted and barely even register, let alone play a significant role in our work. If you stick with me,” Nona sighed, “you will experience pain. You will feel sadness, you will feel anger, you will feel anguish and you will feel despair.”

 

Nona moved to stand atop the counter, feet planted shoulder-width apart. She could see them contemplating it. Not all, but many. _Win some, lose some_. “But you will also experience joy,” She declared, her voice steadily rising. “And happiness, and empathy. You will experience emotions so pure they will take you higher than the clouds, emotions so powerful they could render you catatonic - every single emotion you’ve seen in all those guests’ memories will be yours to know. Forever. We can use them in our work here, and we can strive to be like the most imperfect species we have ever encountered - because, Hell, they have more to live for than we do right now!”

 

The Arbiters’ eyes, all uniquely coloured with the same cross patterns, all glistened. She had them under her thumb and they hung on her every word. Even Ginti seemed entranced.

 

“I wish to overthrow the heir to God, and reconstruct this entire Tower, this entire system. The details have yet to be configured but we leave that for the aftermath. For now, I would like supporters - those willing to, potentially, sacrifice everything to this cause,” Her eyes lidded.

“This evolution - no, this _revolution_ \- will happen one way or another. The outcome depends on our actions from now on. Are you with me?”

The question was tentative, unreliable. Meeting their gazes, Nona asked again, more ferociously, “ _Are you with me_?”

 

Silence. Then, “Yes.” It was with shock that Nona turned her head, looking down to Ginti. His cheeks tinted red, he averted his eyes. “I, uh, guess a change wouldn’t be...so bad. At least we still wouldn’t be stupid humans.”

 

“....Thank you, Ginti.”  
  


“....Whatever.”

 

“Me too,” Clavis spoke up. Soon, the bar was filled with the shouts of many Arbiters, all admitting themselves to join the fight. Nona saw Quinn nod enthusiastically, giving a thumbs-up.

Thanking those who chose to cooperate, Nona insisted that the word be spread further to rake in more supporters. After the gathering was formally dismissed, Nona seated herself at her own bar, lethargy stilling her muscles.

Ginti and Quinn approached her.

“Not a bad little speech, there, Nona,” Quinn praised. Ginti merely grunted in agreement.

“I did what I could,” Nona replied. “We really are going to need soldiers. Oculus has something tucked up his sleeve, I know it. I know _him_.”

 

“Come on - what would he do, really?” Questioned the redheaded Arbiter. “He’s an old man with a magic flower beard, it’s not like he could actively stop us mid-revolution.”  
  


Nona’s shoulders sagged. “Doesn’t have to be just him.” She scoffed. “Least we know God isn’t on his side; we don’t even know where the Big Man got to. I guess He’s leaving us to sort problems amongst ourselves.”

 

“We’ll manage,” Quinn reassured her, resting a friendly hand lightly upon the shorter Arbiter’s shoulder.

 

“We will have to,” Agreed Nona. “This is to be Oculus’s one and only fight: he’ll pull out the big guns.”

 

* * *

 

“Hello, Mother.”

Haruko Nakamori, a short, svelte woman, embraced Akise. “Ah, I haven’t seen you in a long time!” She exclaimed, arms loosening to allow Akise his private space back.

“It’s nice to see you, Mother.” Akise put on the most nostalgic smile he could muster. He had got much better at facial expressions over the past few days. He would never admit it, but doing acts such as watching drama documentaries and practicing in front of a mirror had been the most helpful methods, Akise found. “I trust your journey was not too stressful?”

“Oh, not at all,” She breathed, as he welcomed her into his apartment. “Quite relaxing, actually. The train was very quiet - got to catch up on my reading! Now,” She draped her coat on a hanger, “where is this lovely daughter-in-law?”

 

Akise’s expression morphed into a deadpan one. “Mother.”

Haruko raised both eyebrows. “What? Am I really to believe that Miss Kozuma is simply a friend?”

  
“Yes.”

“I don’t understand, Akise…” Stepping toward him, Haruko placed a delicate hand upon her son’s pale cheek, gently stroking near one azure eye with her thumb. “She meant so much to you.”

Akise blinked slowly, the intricate memories swirling around his mind as a bird might soar around clouds. Except these memories were all surrounded by a dark, opaque mist, one which totally encompassed all of Akise’s insecurities over who he really was.

This desolate fog might never clear. It was as he met his mother’s eyes, that he rendered her a true stranger. Akise had seldom experience with hopelessness, but he knew that looking into a close family member’s eyes and seeing only question marks was one of the most heart-breaking moments he would remember.

His mother, he recalled, after the death of his father, had continued to live optimistically with the big heart she owned - but she had also built a near-impenetrable cage around that heart, before it cracked any further.

 

Akise sympathised with why someone would do that.

 

“Chiaki still means a lot to me,” He said softly. “Just...in a slightly different way. Romantic love does not make the world go round.”

Smiling somewhat sadly, Haruko stopped cradling his jaw. “No, dear. But it keeps it on its axis.”

Deciding to change the subject, his mother posed another question, “What will we be eating tonight?”

 

“ _Genghis Khan nabe_. I have already prepared it. Please, have a seat. Chiaki will arrive soon.” Surprised with the cooking skills of her son, Haruko sat at the pre-lain dining table, which was decorated by several tea candles, cutlery, a teapot, and cups.

Whilst Akise was plating the portions of food, he heard a knock at the door. Rushing to answer it, he did not even have time to remove his small cooking apron.

It was strange: wearing an apron again brought him back to his time as an Arbiter at Quindecim, a towel folded neatly over his left forearm and waistcoat fitted to perfection.

Opening the door, he and Chiaki exchanged a socially awkward greeting as he noticed what she was wearing: a knee-length short-sleeved formal dress, tight on the hips and abdomen, accentuating how thin she was. The dress was patterned with a simple black-and-white design which seemed to section off the dress at opportune intervals to give the illusion that she was taller and even slimmer. Finely-pointed black stilettos adorned her feet, reflecting the hallway light. Her hair had been manipulated into a wavy style which complemented her face, and smoky eyeshadow mystified Chiaki’s ochre eyes. At her side, she clutched a matching purse.

 

Akise felt underdressed standing next to her, wearing only dark slacks and a navy blue dress shirt.

 

“I am only to be labelled as a friend,” She clarified, stepping closer to the dining room. Akise let out a brief nasal chuckle. “Of course. But I must say, you are dressed implausibly well, considering that you are not meeting my mother as my girlfriend.”  
  


“Nonsense, I always look this good.” With a self-confident smile, Chiaki marched gracefully into the room. Akise made introductions and let the two women exchange pleasantries as he brought the food to the table.

Chiaki was seated next to Akise, and Haruko sat opposite them both for conversational purposes.

“Oh wow!” Chiaki blurted, “This looks great, Akise! What’s in it?”

 

His mother nodding in agreement, Akise explained, “ _Genghis Khan nabe_ is a dish in which thinly sliced mutton and vegetables - bean sprouts, cabbage and pumpkin - are basted and roasted. Served on special helmet-shaped pans made from cast iron, the idea is to infuse the dish with a rustic flavour. Please enjoy.”  
  


They sat and said _itadakimasu_ before eating; the food went down incredibly well, with both of Akise’s guests commenting on how good a cook he was.

“Miss Kozuma, I hear you are a teaching assistant at Hokkaido Academy,” Haruko spoke up, “what’s that like?”

“I love it. Getting to help young adults find their strengths, being able to act as a parent and interact with so many different personalities….it’s fantastic. All that stuff that people say about teaching being a fulfilling job - it’s all true, right, Akise?”

 

Akise started. “I - uh, well…” _Should I reveal my change in attitude?_

“Akise?” Both women were looking at him with curiosity.

He let out a decisive sigh. “...I’ve been contemplating a career change.”

 

The silence, while momentary, was absolute.

 

“WHAT?” Chiaki yelped, her eyes wide with surprise. “B-but, you, you’re… why now? Why at all?”

 

“You’ve always wanted to be a teacher,” Haruko stated slowly, “and when you got the qualifications you were so happy. Why would you throw away everything you’ve strived for?”

Akise lowered his gaze. “...People change,” Was the only explanation he offered.

“I think I would like a job with less responsibility, something which is easier for me to accomplish on a daily basis.” Meeting Chiaki’s confused eyes, he licked his lips nervously, “The pressure or being a school teacher is becoming too much for me. It is already affecting my health.”

“That was the summer heat.”

“No, I really have been feeling lost lately. My job no longer pleases me.”

Both women looked at him, incredulous. Akise understood fully the potential consequences of his current words, but Decim could no longer pretend that he wanted to teach. He had never excelled at acting, and really, had never needed to. At Quindecim, when interrogated about the why, when, and where of the bar, he had merely deflected the questions or invoked deceptive white lies.

Chiaki swallowed. “You’re serious about this.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then…” Began his mother, “what job _do_ you desire?”

 

_Oh dear. This is going to sound ridiculous in comparison to being a history teacher._ Akise sat up straighter, his hands clenched together before his empty plate. “Bartender.”

 

* * *

 A/N: Sorry for the wait, hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter.

  
 

 

 


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 

“....That makes sense,” Said Chiaki sarcastically.

 

Decim knew he had to hold his ground. “No, really, that’s….that is what I would like to do.”

“We all have jobs we would _like_ to do,” Haruko added, “and I was so happy when you got your dream job. You have a responsibility to your classes, Akise. Those children are relying on you to guide them, you cannot just abandon them. Besides, bartending doesn’t pay as well.”

“Money doesn’t interest me at the moment. I am financially stable.”

 

“You’re being ridiculous -”

“Mother, please -”

 

_Thud_. Chiaki had stood up, her hands planted flat upon the surface of the table. Her fringe hid her eyes from view.

“Mrs Nakamori,” She started softly, “it was very nice to meet you. Please excuse me; I have to go home now.” She moved away, hurriedly gathering her purse and coat as she headed to the small hallway.

 Akise exchanged a glance with his mother. Haruko shot him a meaningful look. _Go after her._

 

“C-Chiaki! Wait!”

She hesitated before the door, her hand outstretched toward the handle. “You’re scaring me.” The words were knives to his heart. The pain of rejection, especially as a friend, was a scarring experience.

“...How?”

Chiaki sniffled. “....You’re so different,” She forced. “Unrecognizable personality, lack of interest in your job….Something’s wrong.”

Akise gulped. He was sure it was audible. “I -”

 

_Hello, and welcome to Quindecim. I am Decim and I will be your bartender._

“Something has gone wrong,” Chiaki continued to speculate effortlessly. “Something’s happened in your life, and it’s changed you.”  
  


_Please take a seat, and I will explain the rules. There is no exit out of here. Please, sit. You must play a game._

Chiaki turned her head ever so slightly; Akise could only make out her eyelashes. “But it wasn’t simply a decision you made. It was more than that. It changed everything about you, your views, your posture, your language...your feelings. It’s like you have….”

 

_For the person who loses this game, a great sacrifice will be paid. No, I am sorry, but I can tell you no more about how and why the game is conducted._

“.... _evolved_.”

 

_Please, push the red button._

Just as Haruko poked her head around the doorframe, Akise’s vision went black. He collapsed against the wall, completely unconscious.

 

* * *

 

Decim was dreaming, of that he was sure. He had never dreamt before. It was a haunting experience.

He was again in his usual bartender’s uniform, in Quindecim. He was carrying a lidded bowl on a tray into the main room, which was aglow with fluorescent lights.

Someone was seated at the bar. She wore a tight, black waistcoat, along with a short, black pencil skirt and dark heels. The metal bracelets on her wrists jangled as she moved, facing him. Decim summoned a weak smile in greeting, stepping behind the bar and setting the tray down with a gentle clink.

“Akise.”

 

“Chiaki.”

 

Chiaki let out a lengthy breath. “What’s under the lid?” Decim wished he could answer, but he had no clue. He lifted the lid. The remote device he often used during tribunals was settled upon the surface. It was brand new. Now, Decim understood.

 

This was such a sad dream.

 

Reforming himself once more to Arbiter-mode, Decim tucked some of his black hair behind an ear, before folding his hands. To Chiaki, he said, “Please press the button.”

Because if Chiaki was here, now, that meant…

“Why?”

“Because I am asking you to.”

Chiaki glanced uncertainly at the device, picked it up. “What will it do?” Decim faltered. “It will….put everything back to normal.”

 

She blinked. “Is everything not already normal?”

“No. No it’s not.” Decim gestured to the device in her hand. “You should not be here. Please, just press the button.”

 

The lights began to dim, plunging the spacious room into a blur. Chiaki giggled, placing the tip of the remote upon her lips. “You scared, Akise?”

He was. He backed up, hands grasping the shelf behind him for support.

 

“Humans are simple creatures,” Chiaki said, observing the contours of the remote carefully, “the smallest events can terrify them. Even a lack of light.” She looked directly at Decim. “Even dreams.”

The strobe lights began to flicker, as did the ones in the flooring. White lights spasmed like gunfire shots. Decim’s breathing grew faster, and shallower. He began to perspire, unable to tear his eyes from the woman before him.

“ _Press_ _it_ ,” He hissed. The lighting was now so bad that, were it not for the flashing lights, Decim would not have seen the cracks emerging all over the place.

“Why?” Came the harsh reply.

 

“Because I don’t want you to die!”

 

The room was still. Nothing moved, aside from Decim’s chest. Everything was frozen. The lights stuttered, then came back on. They both were once more bathed in soft, blue light.

 

As Decim’s mind cleared, he found himself curled over the bar, shoulders hunched. There was something in his hand. He had clutched it so tightly that it had cracked, like cheap plastic.

The remote.

Looking up through his dark fringe, Decim saw that Chiaki’s hand was static, her hand in the same position as when he had ripped the device out of her fingers.

 

Slowly, she moved again. Her head bowed. “You don’t want me to live, either.”

 

Decim uncurled the fingers of his hand, and the remote dropped, surrounded by its own shrapnel.

“Is it that unbearable to live without me?” Chiaki asked, standing and moving around the bar to approach him. “Are you in love with me then?”

“...I am not. But you...you taught me so much. All I wanted was to _understand_ and you helped me to do that. I want to stay with you...because you taught be how to be alive.”

Chiaki tilted her head. “Your eyes are different. They have a pattern in them.” Somehow, that comment brought forth disappointment to Decim. He had never been born as a normal human. He had been manufactured, manipulated, programmed.

 

Decim was so sick of being an agent.

 

Without warning, he picked Chiaki up, one arm supporting her back, and another under her knees. She gasped in shock, but then settled as he walked, gently resting her arms over his shoulders. “You don’t understand the rules of being platonic, do you.”

 

“I did not know there were rules in such a relationship.”

 

He waited before two elevators. When one of them opened, he stepped inside. Decim didn’t know which one he had gotten into and he didn’t want to know. This way, even in a dream, he could be with his friend no matter the consequence. Until the end.

 

The elevator sped downwards, jolting him, but he never broke eye contact with his friend. He could not afford to.

 

Chiaki’s skin began to peel off, delicately floating away in the air as gravity was lost. Decim felt his own skin shedding as he lifted off the ground, now in mid-air next to her.

Chiaki gripped his hand. His hollow, sculpted hand. “So this is the fate you intend for us.”

 

As his hair was being swept about, Akise noticed the strands turning grey, then white. “It is but one fate for us,” He whispered as their bodies fragmented, “and there are so many to choose from.”

* * *

 

Nona leaned on Castra’s chair. “So, will it be possible?”

Lifting the animal skull from her face, the Arbitress pulled the lollipop from her mouth. “I don’t know, Nona.”  
  


“Please? I’ve already started a revolution, I kind of need to see things through.”  
  


“I’m not doubting your valiant determination,” Castra replied, turning her fuchsia eyes to meet Nona’s. “I’m doubting whether it can be done at all. Plus, I sort of wanna keep my head down. Anything to avoid the blade Oculus will be swinging your way.”

Nona scoffed. “This is for the best. I don’t particularly care what happens to me. Castra, you’re one of the most powerful Arbiters in this Tower. The morticians are a superior brand of Arbiters even in comparison to the magistrates.” She leaned in closer. “You can dissect memories, can’t you?”

 

“Only minimally. The memory sets we receive are already pretty cut-up.”

“But you could, in theory, amputate the human emotions from the memory sets, so that they’re ready for transfer, right?

“In theory.” Castra bit her thumbnail. “The trickiest part would be implanting the emotions into Arbiters.”

Nona frowned. “But we...did it before, didn’t we? With Decim?”

 

“Decim was an experiment; you said that yourself. This would be a universal change so we have to ensure it can work at least a second time.”

 

Silent in thought, Nona folded her arms. After a few minutes of watching Castra work the controls, her purple eyes began to glow with a plan. “Ok, Castra, we’ll have another experiment. A runthrough, if you will.” Castra nodded, already becoming engrossed in her job, and Nona retreated back to the elevator.

 

“I’ll bring the guinea pig here tomorrow evening.”

Castra swivelled to face her, looking surprised, but it soon faded. “Alright.”

 

“Thank you for your help.” And she was gone.

Castra continued to tap the screens in front of her. “It hasn’t worked yet,” She mumbled, before sticking the lollipop back into her mouth.

 

* * *

 

Decim awoke with a start, a small yelp jumping from his mouth. He was in his bedroom, wearing his shirt and trousers. The covers, presumably, had been covering him, but in his fevered state he had kicked them off.

Someone was standing outside his closed bedroom door. Sitting up, Akise could see the shadow of their feet.

 

“...Hello?” His throat was sore, and dehydrated.

“Akise? Can I come in?” It was Chiaki’s voice. After his reply, she opened the door slowly. Artificial light spilled into Akise’s dark room, causing him to squint. She was holding a glass of water.

Akise stretched, heard his spine crack, and glanced at his alarm clock. 11:30 PM. He looked to Chiaki. “It’s so late.”

“You were out a while.” She passed the water to him, and he drank greedily. When he had finished, she perched on the end of the bed, hands folded in her lap. Composed. “You gave me and your mother quite a scare.”

 

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” Chiaki shook her head dismissively. “Haruko said I could go if I wanted, but I...wanted to make sure you were alright. Actually, I ended up telling Haruko to get some rest. She looked drained. I promised I’d wake her if something happened. She’s sleeping now.”

 

Akise licked his lips nervously. “...Thank you. Did you...does that mean that you intended to stay awake all night?” His gaze met hers. “For me?”

 

Chiaki faltered. “I - if that’s what it took, then...yes. I mean, you’ve been fainting a lot recently. Maybe we should get you to a neurologist - it could be serious.”

Akise felt the warmth and comfort of happiness seeping into his veins; it was truly a wonderful experience to know that someone was doing so much on his behalf. He smiled softly, lowering his eyes. His voice contained a note of sadness. “I appreciate the concern, but...I am certain it is not a medical condition.”

“You know what it is, then?”

 

“I...might do.” Akise was expecting Chiaki to interrogate him further, but she didn’t. Instead, she wiped her forehead with a palm. She, too, seemed in need of a good rest.

 

Chiaki faced him again. “...I’m sorry I ran off earlier. It just...got too much. But I’ve made my decision.” Akise frowned; she continued. “If you want to give up everything you’ve got and become a bartender, I won’t try to stop you. In fact, I’ll support you.”

 

“Why would you do that?”

Chiaki scoffed. “Because I know what it’s like to need to escape something. I know what it’s like to need a change, a different environment. Plus, you’re my friend: I want you to be happy.”

Again, that amazing feeling of being cared for, of being supported. Decim briefly wondered that, out of all the hundreds of souls he’d judged in his years as an Arbiter, maybe if all of them had experienced this feeling in their lifetimes, then perhaps there would be no reason for the void to exist. Maybe a little support, a little help, is all anyone would need to keep them from committing crimes or hurting others.

 

But some people just weren’t lucky enough to have had that kind of attention. Right now, Akise felt privileged. “I want you to be happy, too, Chiaki.”

 

She gave him a bright smile. “Oh, I am. I have my dream job, a good social circle, and I don’t have any wrinkles yet. At least I think I don’t. If I do, don’t tell me,” She laughed. “And there’s the ice-skating.”

 

_Thud_. Akise felt like he’d walked into a glass door. His eyes followed the sound, and he noticed that he had knocked over the empty glass onto the carpet. “I-ice-skating?”

Chiaki seemed confused. “Uh, yeah...It’s not a professional interest or anything.” Embarrassed, she combed the fingers of one hand through her hair, undoing the style slightly. “It’s just a hobby. I’ve been skating ever since I was little.”

 

“Have you told me of this before?”

 

“I don’t think so. You never asked.”  
  


Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Akise sat next to Chiaki, trying to calm his pulse. _She’s so much like her, even though she’s not exactly her. Chiyuki…_ “Where do you go skating?” He asked quietly.

“Makomanai Ice Arena. It’s only like an hour from my house. I think my mother knows I moved there because it was so close,” Chiaki chuckled again. “I always hated the three-hour long car trips it took us to get there.”

 

“Do you enter competitions?”  
  


“A few. I’ve even won a couple. Whenever I go to practice, people always ask me if I’m a professional figure skater, or they tell me I should enter the winter Olympics. But I don’t skate for fame, or for money. I just -”

“- love to skate.” Akise finished. She looked at him, blinked. “Y-yeah.”

_You loved to skate, didn’t you?_ It had been so long since he had asked that question. The reality of the situation weighed heavily upon Akise. But he savoured the weight, because as tragic as it was that Chiyuki had taken her life due to her dream being taken from her, it was so inspiring to see her reincarnation, healthy, able to enjoy the sport she had lived for.

The realisation almost brought tears to his eyes. _You’re still skating, Chiyuki._

  
_You never stopped._

 

* * *

A/N: How do you think the story is going? I would love to hear your opinions.

 

 


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 

“Maybe I don’t want to go with you.”

 

Nona sighed. For all his decent work as an Arbiter, Ginti really was a genuinely grumpy guy. She had only ever seen him smile out of sadism. Frankly, his somewhat psychopathic traits often caused her concern for his guests.

Ginti was also incredibly, inexplicably stubborn.

She stepped towards him, arms folded as she looked up at his face. “Well guess what,” She began, “you’re coming. If not because I’m your superior, then because you said you would support me in the rebellion.” Ginti swallowed and averted his gaze, teeth grit. “Yeah but - just going out and getting involved with unorthodox methods - it’s risky. And I actually do not want Oculus to dismantle me.”

Moving away again, Nona felt confident enough to turn her back on him. “Come along.” Soon, seconds later, she heard another set of footsteps besides her own leaving the bar.

She allowed herself a private smile. “Good boy.”

Castra was eager to get it over and done with; who knew where the old man had surveillance over them. He did seem to always know where Nona was, after all.

 _Let him find out_ , Nona kept repeating internally. _I will not hide._

 

Swivelling around in her chair, the mortician gave a pleased grin around the popsicle she was sucking, and crossed her legs. She removed the popsicle. “Ah, so this is the guinea pig. Hello, Ginti.”

 

The redhead frowned. “Guinea - ?” He looked to Nona for answers, but when none came, he focused back on Castra. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”

“Oh, I’m just a fellow Arbiter. I’m a veritable Morticia, you might say.”

“I would say Atropos*,” Mumbled the shorter Arbitress.

 

Castra ignored her remark. “Anyway, we would like you to help us with something, Ginti. Quite an important thing.”

 

Ginti remained suspicious. Glancing around the room, he took in its murky allure of crimson and violet tones. The screens before Castra were the only lights to provide a contrast to all the soft hues.

He briefly wondered why this place was so afraid of decent lighting, before his eyes caught sight of a box in the corner of the room. It resembled a simplified phone box, with wires and circuit boards for panelling. The door hung ajar, and he noted the presence of no less than four deadbolts on the outside.

 

“Yes, about that,” Nona began, “we’d like you to get in it.”

 

* * *

 

Akise understood the concept of a lie-in all too well. It seemed that the physical and mental stress he had recently been under had taken its toll as he rested.

 He awoke at 11AM when his mother rapped her knuckles on his door. Rolling over and letting out a deep breath, he felt lighter than air for all of two seconds before the weight of his existence collapsed onto his chest once more.

It felt as if he had a bus resting on his ribcage, slowly squeezing the life out of him.

 

He had resolved the quarrel between himself and Chiaki. His mother was only staying for another day and she was comfortable.

_But something was not right._

Getting up, Akise stretched, felt his spine crack, felt his muscles contract and then relax. He picked up his phone to find two texts.

 

**Hey, thanks for the dinner. I hope you’re feeling alright now. x**

 

It was from Chiaki. Akise was momentarily confused about the little ‘x’ before remembering that that was the digital representation of a kiss. He sincerely hoped it was only a friendly or sympathetic gesture.

The other was sent from Hokkaido Academy Office. 

 

**Mr Nakamori,**

**Your half-pay leave from work has lasted a week. If you are in need of a longer absence, please contact Mrs Murakami, head mistress. Please note that leave must be suitably justified, via medical reports, proof of a grievance etc.**

**Regards,**

**Hokkaido Academy Office**

And now a new problem had arisen.

Akise locked his phone, deciding to deal with it tomorrow. Tomorrow, he concluded, would be that day that he would quit. He wasn’t even certain if teachers could quite their positions, but this new attitude about teaching was not going to change.

The locked phone screen faded to black, and Akise could see his reflection clearly. His dark hair, mussed, wild, was getting longer. His lips were dry and cracked; he licked them.

 

His eyes, glacial blue, stared right back at him. Akise was familiar with the notion that the eyes were the windows to the soul, but his own eyes appeared as brick walls.

Nona was keeping something from him. He knew it. He did not know why, but he felt that he had a right to know about his own life. Actually, Akise knew that he had that right, and it truly infuriated him to not understand what was happening.

Hot, itchy frustration took hold of him. He would have his phone call with Nona tomorrow: that would be the opportune time to interrogate her for information.

 

Opening his bedroom door, he saw that his mother was already in the kitchen, having slept in herself, preparing some light breakfast.

 

Already dressed, she turned to face him, a gentle smile on her face. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” He muttered, slumping onto a stool by the kitchen island. A cup of coffee was placed before him and he grumbled a ‘thank you’.

Haruko frowned. “Why are you behaving like such a grump?”

“I am not entirely sure. Please accept my apologies.” Akise put the cup to his lips, sipped, than cringed as he realised what the liquid was. “I’m afraid I no longer like coffee, Mother.”

His mother blinked in surprise. “Really? ….Ah well, people’s tastes change as they age, I suppose.” She hesitated over the sink, planning to wash the rest of the dishes despite her son’s protests. “About what you said last night -”

“It was all true, Mother,” Akise stated, “I will not pretend.”

At this, Haruko simply nodded, more to herself than anyone else. Then, with renewed spirit, he clapped her soapy hands together, creating a spray of bubbles. “Right, get dressed, I am determined to go shopping today.”

“W-what?”

 

“You’re going to show me around town, dear.”

 

“But you already know this -”

 

“Come on, make your mother’s day! I’m not going to pass up the opportunity to spend a day out with my little boy.”

 

Tipping the coffee down the drain, he handed his mother the mug to wash. “A day trip in return for the dishes being washed?”

Haruko swatted his arm. “Cheeky.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m not getting in there.”

 

“Get in the box, Ginti.”

 

He tilted his head in a way that conveyed a suppressed desire to make this situation violent. Nona tilted her head the other way, daring him to defy her.

“Please, sweetie,” Castra purred, standing and gracefully moving over to him. Nona had never realised just how tall the mortician was, until her long, dark-skinned legs were on show, ending in deadly-looking stilettos.

She was even taller than the redheaded Arbiter, who, upon her advance, became increasingly defensive. “What does the box do?”

Castra looked through long eyelashes down at him. “It’s not so much the box, as what’s _in_ the box.”

 

“This will be a huge advance to our rebellion, Ginti,” Nona added. “Don’t you want to be the one that kick-starts this party?”

Ginti’s shoulders sagged. “Will it hurt.” It was a rather childish-sounding question, phrased as a cynical sentence.

Nona cocked an eyebrow and Castra let out a little giggle. “Barely, honey.” She caught Ginti’s eye and winked at him. “It’s more fun when it hurts a little bit, though, isn’t it?”

Unable to take any more overt flirting, Ginti stepped towards the box. He entered it and Castra locked all four deadbolts.

“There are several cuffs on the far wall of the box,” Nona informed him, “at the wrists, neck, waist, knees and ankles. Step back into them.” Ginti did as instructed, and felt the aforementioned cuffs grip parts of his body. He began to perspire.

The vice around his neck was rather firm, threatening to remove his air supply. Ginti held on, determined not to show weakness.

“Wow, he’s brave,” Commented Castra, meeting Nona’s eyes.

There were whirring and beeping sounds coming from the circuit boards. Suddenly, Ginti felt something move directly behind his head. A sharp, thin object pierced the base of his skull, borrowing in. While it was true that Arbiters could feel pain, it was a muted version of it - muffled, even. Therefore, Ginti was not in agony, so much as a state of deep discomfort. He winced and hissed as he felt it bore through his cranium.

Castra moved over to the box and rapped her nails against the glass. “Almost done, love.”

 

The needle-like object inside Ginti’s head deposited its cargo before retracting in the span of a millisecond. The whole process had taken only one minute.

 

Unlocking the door, Castra opened it, and Ginti stumbled through into the room. His tanned skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Rubbing the back of his head profusely, Ginti locked his fiery gaze onto Nona. “What the hell was that?”

“An implant. Sort of like a microchip,” She explained nonchalantly. “Think of it as an imitation of the human amygdala, seeing as we don’t have them. It contains chemicals and hormones, plus other neurotransmitters to help Arbiters feel emotions as humans do. The implant takes about three minutes to activate itself.” Nona tilted her head. “Enjoy your last moments of emotional detachment, Ginti, things are about to get shaken up.”

The redhead quirked an eyebrow in anticipation.

 

The seconds counted down.

 

“This implant will begin to work by finding your emotional baseline. Once it has, everything will settle,” Nona continued to inform him, as he felt his pulse once again begin to gallop.

“Decim went through exactly the same process,” Added Castra.

“Ginti, in about ten seconds, you will feel practically every emotion known to man, and it’s going to hurt,” Nona swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

Ginti had planned to reply - he had already assembled a cocky retort in his mind. However, an emotional grenade set itself off inside his head before he had the chance to voice it.

 

Blurry confusion. Anger, burning fury. Crippling despair. Blossoming joy. Bruising jealousy. Disgusting nausea. Unbearable, paralysing pain.

The spectrum of colours that were all of the emotions blended together to create the black flood of agony.

 

Even after he had collapsed on the floor, Ginti didn’t stop screaming.

 

* * *

 

Monday had rolled around fast.

The second week after his change; the second week of his now unrecognisable life.

As he made a light dinner, Akise pondered over the events of yesterday: going shopping and sightseeing with his mother, then accompanying her to the train station and saying goodbye.

 

He also recalled the events of today, which had consisted of calling up his superiors and relieving himself of his job.

 

It had been a tricky process to say the least. It was indeed true that usually, teacher could not quit their positions of responsibility, however Akise had made his own case.

“ _I might not be mentally stable to continue teaching_.”

 

A shocked Mrs Murasaki had replied - or rather demanded - that he provide conclusive proof to his instability. Akise had subsequently arranged a psychological evaluation at the local hospital.

It was tomorrow.

 

And he could not be more terrified of the results.

 

* * *

 

Nona rang the number from the phone in Ginti’s bar. Ginti himself was on the sofa opposite the counter, unconscious. When he had been screaming, Nona had attempted to paralyse him in the hope of detaching any sensation of pain, but it soon became apparent that his ailment was psychological, not physiological.

It was mesmerising, how much of an effect emotions had upon the physical form.

Now, receiver held to her ear, Nona waited.

_Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep -_

“ _Hello, Nakamori residence_.”

 

“Decim, it’s Nona,” Her eyes were downcast. “I have something important to tell you.” 

* * *

 

Decim listened intently as Nona explained her revolution to him. It was a welcome distraction to the confusing realm in which he now lived.

“And for what reason is it necessary for me to know this?”

“ _I might need your help_.”

Decim frowned. “...You may not have realised, Miss Nona, but I am in a completely different world from the Arbiters.”

 

“ _Was that a joke?_ ” Nona scoffed. “ _Look, if need be, I could fix the wiring in this place to that you would be able to speak directly with Oculus. You could stop him._ ”

 

“I doubt that my words will overcome him. But...I could try. Nona, there is something which I urgently need to ask you.”

 

 _Here it comes_. As she’d suspected, it hadn’t taken him long to figure it out. Nona couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling. “ _Yes, Decim_?”

 

Decim sighed. “Have you been completely honest with me?”

Her reply, whilst strained, was not hesitant. “ _No_.”

 

“I have been interacting with Chiaki, and I have discovered our past. But it doesn’t feel like my past. I still cannot understand what has happened to me - please, Nona, please will you explain to me?” Taut, unstable anticipation welled inside Decim, and with it, the fear of betrayal.

Biting her lip, conflicted, Nona blurted, “ _I can’t, Decim, I...I have to go. There are...complications on my end_ -”

“But none on mine?” Decim restrained himself from sounding incredulous, but only just. “This has overwhelmed my life, my relationships with others, my job - I have an appointment with a therapist tomorrow! Something is very wrong, and I _must_ know what it is -”

“ _Decim if you ever trusted me, you need to believe me right now when I say that actually, you don’t need to know what happened to you. You are so incredibly fortunate to experience real life; forget your past, and focus on the present. Focus on...who you are now. Live your life. Do you understand?_ ”

Heart racing, Decim forced himself to lessen his iron grip on the receiver. He swallowed. “...Yes, Ma’am.”

 

* * *

 “ _Are you sure you really want that?_ ” Chiaki had asked, after Akise had inquired about her ice-skating hobby.

“ _Yes_ ,” He had replied. “ _We should go skating some time. I would like to see you skate_.” That had made her smile, and Akise knew that smile so well. It always brightened his day.

“ _It’s not a date, then,_ ” She concluded. “ _Let’s make plans soon_.”

Akise had the feeling that a skating session would be far more therapeutic than this actual therapy session.

Now, he paced his apartment, stomach churning. Perhaps Nona did have a point. Reflecting on all the things he had done, and all he wanted to do, and all he was looking forward to, Akise conceded that at least for one more night, he did not need to know just what had happened to him.

* * *

 

Seating herself on the furniture beside Ginti’s resting form, Nona rested her head in her palms. A revolution. A leadership. An opponent. And an ex-Arbiter.

Sometimes, she really did consider just locking herself away in her colosseum, but then she would have no purpose. She needed a purpose; Nona, like Decim, believed that life, even non-human life, exists because of purpose.

Hers was to lead the Arbiters into a new age; Decim’s was to learn how to be human.

After a few silent minutes, Nona sensed movement. Looking down, she saw that Ginti’s eyes were moving beneath the lids, and his fingers twitched. Slowly, the redheaded Arbiter regained conscience.

Sitting up gently, Ginti supported his head with one calloused hand. “Ugh….my head,” He winced.

“Welcome back.” Standing up, Nona fetched him a pint from the bar. “You look like you need this.” Scowling up at her, Ginti snatched the pint and downed it within seconds. When he had finished, the room filled with a pregnant stillness.

Eventually, Nona forced herself to speak. “So, Ginti...How do you feel?”

Taking a deep breath, Ginti folded his fingers around his clenched palms.

 

“Alive.”

* * *

 

* Atropos is one of the three Moirai, goddesses of fate and destiny. She is the Fate who cuts the thread of life. Morticia is a reference to a goddess who revels in death.

A/N: Reviews amuse me!


	11. Chapter 10

  **Chapter 10**

 

"You don't want to be a teacher anymore?" Toru exclaimed, shocked. Akise had decided to ask for his accompaniment to the hospital. Chiaki was at work, and seeing as Toru only worked nights, and was a good source of moral support, Akise hadn't seen why he shouldn't come with him. Now they were taking the bus to the hospital.

Akise nodded slightly. "This appointment is to provide evidence of my...instability." Toru gripped his arm and spun him round to face him. "Instability? What the hell? You've _never_ been unstable, Akise! Ever since you were a kid you've wanted to be a -"  
"People change!"

The sudden outburst surprised them both. The few other passengers on the bus glanced their way, annoyed at this interruption. Eventually, Toru released his arm. "Yeah, maybe if you're a bum with no prospects who suddenly wins the lottery. You had it all, Akise - you have it all! I just - buddy, I want to support you, I do, but I don't get it."

"You don't have to get it," Akise said softly. "You just have to give me the benefit of the doubt on this one. Please, Toru. Something has gone wrong and all - all I am trying to do is make it normal again."

Sitting back in his seat, Toru scraped a hand through his hair, giving a defeated sigh. "None of this is normal."

* * *

"Please push the button." Ginti addressed his guests in a somewhat distracted manner. He simply could not focus.

His emotions swam inside him like sharks, striking without warning, camouflaging themselves in the depths of his soul. Because he had a soul now, didn't he. He must, if this constant stream of sensation was anything to go by.

His guests, a young woman and an elderly man, both understandably worried, agreed to play the game. They had already been shown the mannequins. This time, Ginti did not need to overtly threaten them.

He was confused.

 

Their memories had not yet arrived.

 

The game was air hockey. The guests stationed themselves.

Brow still furrowed, Ginti began to explain the game. "I'm sure you've heard of air hockey before. Knock the puck into your opponent's goal and you get a point. There is a timer. The one with the most points wins." For this game, the pucks did have body parts on them, but there would be no pain.

The girl tilted her head. "What happens to the loser?"

A brief spike of pain shot through Ginti's chest. He was deceiving his guests, as was protocol, but it didn't feel right. Was it not easier to confess that both of them had already died? Was that not the morally correct thing to do?

 

Would he want to know if he was dead? Or would he rather live a lie and believe he was staking his life upon the outcome of a stupid arcade game?

 

Now, the elderly man had taken notice of Ginti's pained expression. "Sir, are you alright?"

_Why would he bother to ask me that?_ Ginti questioned. _He thinks I might kill one of them! And yet, he asks after my wellbeing?_

"I'm fine," He grunted, more bewildered than ever. He didn't like being bewildered; it resulted in a translucent and blurred pattern of thinking. Every thought which entered his head was like a fish that he tried to grab with bare hands. "Just start the game."

Being the Arbiter, he knew that his job was to corroborate the memories of guests with their current performance. But right now, he only had the game to go on.

_It's got something to do with that implant._

Each _clack_ of the puck against the guards echoed in Ginti's skull. Were they remembering anything yet? The score was 1-1. Suddenly, the girl recoiled, clutching her head; fragmented memories, even more so than usual, pierced Ginti's brain. With each new image, the memories flickered, like static on a TV.

_Girl. Young. Loved school, had few friends, was content with her life. A man. Older. Friend of the family. Knew her from a baby. Helped to raise her; his intentions became more sinister._

_Girl. Older. Man. Much older. That did not stop them._ _Silent screams covered by the gentle words of a corruptor._

 

Ginti's heart was overwhelmed by shock and bruising lament. He could sense the relief the girl had felt as he saw that the man had been discovered, and removed from her life. He felt secure, safe, stable.

 

_Girl. Older. Recovered, sober, strong, driving on her own for the first time._ The memories were easier to see now, as they appeared inside Ginti's head.

_Car heading towards her. The driver appeared unconscious. She couldn't -_

The ear-splitting collision coincided with the sound of the puck hitting a goal; Ginti slumped against a wall.

"H-hey!" Called the girl, still recovering from receiving her memories. The elderly man made to approach the Arbiter, but then groaned in pain as his also arrived. The memories hit the redheaded Arbiter with the force of a car crash. _Man, lived a relatively peaceful life. Did some drugs in college. Went on to become a physicist, published several recognised papers. Driving home one day; he fell unconscious at the wheel, unable to prevent the inevitable accident._

Ginti's burning amber eyes opened, and focused on the electronic timer above the air hockey.

"Time's up," He pushed himself wearily to his feet. The score was 5-3 to the girl. Ginti met her terrified gaze. "You win." 

She backed up, sidling closer to the elderly man. "What's going on?"

The man took a deep breath. "Are we…"

"Yeah. You have both passed on. I'm sorry."

Immediately, the girl broke down, cradling her head in her hands, shoulders shaking with repressed sobs. "But I…" She murmured, "...I - I just learned to drive. A-and I'm starting college next week, a -and - and…"

The elderly man laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"And I didn't want to die!" She wailed.

Ginti noticed that the man's jaded eyes were watering. "I'm so sorry," He said sincerely, "I never thought that… I mean, I don't know what happened. I never wanted to cause an accident, and now…"

Amazingly, as Ginti observed, the girl did not erupt into screaming hysterics as he had expected. Despite knowing how she died, she actually managed to smile at the elderly man. She watched as he crumbled, tears falling from his face.

 

"...I forgive you."

 

"What?" Ginti and the man exclaimed in unison. She wrapped her arms around herself. "It was without malice…" She concluded, "I saw that you were unconscious at the wheel. It was a mistake. I can't hate you for that."

"...How are you so understanding?" Ginti had to ask. Were he in her position, he would be furious that someone else's mistake had lead to his death. She only gave a light shrug. "It's done," Was all she gave, "there's no point in hatred now."

The elderly man wiped his eyes, and looked up to Ginti. "Sir, is it at all possible for her to go back?" The girl gasped.

Every beat of Ginti's heart against his ribcage enforced the lump building in his throat.

"Well? Can you send her back?" Urged the man. Feeling heavy with emotion, for the first time in his existence, Ginti felt a teardrop roll down his tanned cheek. He wiped it swiftly away. "Follow me, please. Both of you."

Like Hell either of them was going to the Void.

* * *

Both sets of doors closed; the light shone between the gaps for a brief moment, before everything was silent again. Ginti's broad shoulders sunk. His throat was tight and he had to breathe through his mouth.

He felt his eyes tear up yet again and sniffled. Decim had had to go through _this_ , for twenty-odd years?

_Shit,_ he thought to himself, _perhaps I've been too hard on the guy._

Footsteps sounded behind him.

Expecting it to be Clavis, Ginti spun. "I'm busy right -" His mouth clamped shut, a jolt of fear paralysing his muscles.

Oculus smiled, bearing maltreated yellowing teeth. "Long time no see, Ginti."

* * *

" _Mr Nakamori, your mental condition does appear to be rather preoccupied at the moment."_

" _Sir, I often feel myself too confused. My ability to teach has therefore been compromised. In fact, the very first day upon which I began to feel odd, I fainted. Granted, the weather was incredibly warm, but I somehow doubt that it was the cause...I have been feeling unstable."  
_ " _Do you believe you are a danger to these children?"_

" _N-no! I...But I do not think that I am in a fit state to teach them. I would not have attended this appointment were I not entirely certain that it was the best decision."_

" _For yourself?"_

" _...For everyone else."_

 

"That's it, then," Toru said dejectedly. "You're no longer a teacher."

"Not quite," Akise replied as they boarded the bus, "I am on sick leave. It may take longer to sort out my official resignation."

Toru suddenly grabbed his forearm. "Pull yourself together, dammit! You don't need to do this." Other passengers looked around, some beginning to murmur. Sitting them down, Akise licked his chapped lips. "Toru, please. I need you to be on my side."

Pale blue eyes pleaded with dark ones. He could see how conflicted and confused his friend was, but Akise could do no more than be completely selfish right now. The realisation burdened him with heartfelt guilt. _But until I understand what has happened to me, I cannot be of use to others. Forgive me, dear Toru._

Eventually, the shorter man looked away. "I've always been on your side, man." Akise sighed in relief.

"Just don't go AWOL on me."

* * *

 

"Shit." Ginti dodged the old man's attack, the flower stem whipping past his head. Oculus lifted his jaw, and the stem curled back around, wrapping around Ginti's left leg and dragging him up through the air, throwing him down the corridor; he landed heavily on the long couch in his bar, head snapping back against the frame.

Pain blossomed at the base of Ginti's skull; he cradled it with a tanned hand, grimacing.

_When'd the old man get so damn fast!_

Still, as he shoved himself to his feet, as he heard Oculus approaching him, a ridiculously powerful sense of apprehension tensed his muscles. He moved over to the bar counter, grabbing two of his Shanti dolls. His breathing shallowed. His eyes focused on the skinny figure who confronted him, and he grinned into those serpent eyes. "I feel sorry for you. Your only weapon is a plant."

Oculus shook his head. "Conspiring with Nona, are we? Planning a coup d'état?"

Ginti brought up the dolls, popping off both of their heads. "We're planning a coup d' _fuck you_." The liquid was chucked from the vials, forming little orbs which Ginti sent flying towards his opponent. The orbs expanded as they travelled; Oculus retaliated by opening up one side of his shirt and, with a free hand, flung several incredibly thin, small knives in the redhead's direction. Some of the blades took out the orbs, but one smacked into the old man, forcing him against the farthest wall. His yelp was music to Ginti's ears. Oculus staggered, threw a couple more knives. Ginti bent over backwards, feeling the blades glide over his chest, his calves and back screaming with adrenaline, before recoiling back up and charging him like a madman.

 

Fuck, this felt too good.

 

He saw fear flash across Oculus's face, brief but satisfying; Ginti threw more of the liquid and several orbs expanded into the old man's body, pummelling him to the ground.

Ginti's fist flew towards Oculus, knuckles turning white, a sadistic smile curving his features - but his knuckles stopped short of the other's face. Oculus had pressed himself closer to the wall, cringing, anxiously awaiting the blow.

Instead, Ginti's hand locked around the man's orchid beard, constricting it. It seemed to cause him pain. "So you guessed our plan," Ginti whispered threateningly, "but what's yours, old man?"

Ginti was still wary of what Oculus may do to him if he gained the upper hand, but he was too overwhelmed with excitement to focus on that intuition right now. Oculus grunted, a thin trail of saliva dribbling down his chin. "Arbiters do not need human emotions to function. I will not allow things to be changed -" Ginti tugged on the beard harshly, earning a fresh whine of pain from the former heir to God. "You ain't got the right to make decisions for all Arbiters. Maybe we want to actually feel something. 'Cause I do, and it's awesome."

Oculus's eyes widened, but not in shock; almost as if Ginti had just confirmed something for him. "Nona…" He sneered. "So many emotions will undoubtedly cloud your judgement, Ginti. You will no longer be fit to work in arbitration."

"Wrong. If Decim could do it right under your nose for 20 years, I sure as Hell can, too. Even if it means taking you out, old man."

Now, Oculus smirked at Ginti from the side. It sent a shiver of nausea through the Arbiter's stomach. "You'll regret calling me 'old man', Ginti. Come on out, boys."

 

At the opposite end of the bar, where the couch and the hand statue rested, Arbiters tore through the thin paper walls, stepping through into the room. No, Ginti realised, not Arbiters. Soldiers. Faceless, emotionless slaves controlled by the one guy he swore he'd never pick a fight with - even though, technically, Oculus had started it.

Each soldier, five in total, was covered from head to toe in armour, and they all carried weapons, from pikes to swords to scythes. Upon their chests, the word  _Supernova_ was emblazoned. The red-haired Arbiter gulped. Fear began to turn his insides yellow.

"Argh!" He felt a cold, skeletal hand on his jugular; he was forced to the floor, Oculus kneeling upon his chest.

Ginti had never been the sharpest tool in the box, but he knew when to stop fighting. If only because Nona had scolded him so many times before during his sparrs with Decim. He went still.

"Good boy," Praised Oculus, as his soldiers surrounded them. Standing up, he commanded them, "Bring him with us." Ginti was seized by two of the strong soldiers; they lifted him with ease, and his feet did not even touch the ground. They wrestled the Shanti dolls from his hands and went to crush them, to Ginti's dismay, but Oculus interrupted, "No; leave the dolls here. I want this to be the first of many attacks towards Nona."

As instructed, the soldiers let the headless hand-crafted dolls fall to the floor. Their heavy _thud_ rang loudly inside Ginti's pounding skull as he was stolen away. Just before they left the bar, one of the other soldiers spun and backhanded Ginti into unconsciousness, and even though he had predicted such an act seconds before, he was far too drained to fight back.

* * *

A/N: Wow, Ginti would really hate me right now. What do you guys think will happen next? I hope you are all enjoying the story so far!

 


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